The Night of the Fan Girl
by The Wild Wild Whovian
Summary: Running. The sonic screwdriver. Jim and Artie. A big tentacly monster or two. A blue Police Call Box. A canon Bad Guy from WWW. Things getting blown up. Technobabble, and a conversation with a horse. Did I mention running? Oh, and some snogging too. Because one of the men involved here has a Fan Girl.
1. Prologue

**The Night of the Fan Girl**

**Prologue ~~ Now**

The hush, when it fell, was deafening. Also falling were the last bits of debris from the explosion. The girl emerged from hiding in the doghouse, looked about, then exclaimed, "Ew! Who's going to clean all this up?"

The tall skinny man in the overcoat paused in the act of tucking away a slender metallic rod with a glowing blue tip into his inside jacket pocket. "Who's going to…" he repeated after the girl. "Ah! Well… _ciao_, then!" he called with a cheery wave of his hand and began striding rapidly away.

Realizing that the man was legging it, the girl scrambled after him. "Hold on there, you! You owe me!"

He stopped, dropped his head, then swung to face her as she caught him up. "You said," she continued, jabbing a finger at him, "that if I would help you get rid of that, that **thing**, you would…"

He held up his long-fingered hands, forestalling the rest. "Right, right. I promised you one trip, wherever you'd like to go. Take you there and then back home with you." He tilted his head. "Are you ready then?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "As soon as **we **clean up this mess."

He grimaced, ruffling a hand through his ever-messy brown hair as he turned about, taking in the full extent of the damage. "Oh… clean up?"

"Yes!" said the girl pointedly. And then, eyes sparkling, she added, "And I know precisely whom I'd like to go see."


	2. The StakeOut

**The Stake-Out ~~ Then**

The sun beat down over the scorched terrain. Nothing met the eye but the colors of heat - browns, reds, yellows - and towering rocks and level sands stretching away to the horizon. Nothing, that is, except for one small dilapidated shack standing there crumbling in the burning heat.

Up on the rocks overlooking the disintegrating hut, a man collapsed his spyglass, then produced a handkerchief and tipped back his hat to mop the sweat from his face. "Well," he said to an audience of only himself and his horse, "Hansen's still in there, all right." It had taken days for him and his partner to pinpoint just where to search for Hansen, and they had arrived here in the backside of nowhere on their train just yesterday and found the house today. His partner was off scouting the area at the moment, leaving him here to keep watch in case Hansen should make a move. And once his partner returned, which wouldn't be much longer, he hoped, then they would come up with a plan to capture the counterfeiter and bring him in.

Behind him, the horse gave a soft nicker. Hmm? The man dropped back from the edge of the rock to check the barely-existent path that the rock concealed. To the right was the direction into which his partner had ridden off; no one over there. To the left was the direction from which they two had ridden up, and there was someone over there!

The man frowned as he looked down and watched the newcomer. "A girl?" he muttered. "What's she doing here?"

Expanding the spyglass again, he took a closer look. Early twenties, he estimated her to be, and dressed up in someone's idea of a cowgirl costume: big broad-brimmed black hat with, of all things, a poof of fluffy purple feathers in the band; long-sleeved blouse under a far too big and garishly green vest; tan riding skirt extensively embroidered; and last of all, wholly inadequate if not ludicrous boots. Cute boots they were, bright red, with the heels too high to run in, and the sides too low to protect her legs from…

A thought hit the man at that point, and he shifted the spyglass to have a look at the area the girl was walking into. Uh-oh. Snapping the spyglass shut, the man bolted for his horse and snatched the rifle from its scabbard on the saddle.

The sudden explosion of a single gunshot stopped the girl in her tracks. A few feet ahead of her, a thick meaty rope-like object sprang up from the ground and fell again belly up, its head neatly shot away. A man's voice came from the rocks above her, saying, "Careful, miss. The diamondback rattlesnake is extremely venomous. If you'll look in the shade of that big rock straight ahead of you, you'll see that the one I just shot is not the only rattler near you."

She looked. The shady side of that big rock was exactly where she had been planning to hide. "I… I don't see anything," she said.

"Do you hear something?" the voice continued. "A dry rattling sound?"

She listened and stiffened. "I… I… Yes, I hear that."

"Back away," said the voice. "Go back exactly the way you came in."

The girl was frozen. "I'm scared. I can't move…"

Great… "All right, stay right there. I'm coming to get you." And even as he spoke those words, he was on the move, coming down from the high ground above her by the path which she hadn't noticed.

And now the voice was behind her. "All right, miss. Turn around and walk toward me. Keep your eyes on the ground and don't step on or near anything that might be alive."

Tensely, she forced herself to obey. It was arguably the longest walk she'd ever taken, head down, scanning the ground. Then, "Here's my hand." She glanced up and saw the hand, glimpsing also a pair of legs clad in brown pants and knee-high boots. She reached out her hand to him.

He caught her hand and all but lifted her the rest of the way to his side, shifted his grip to her elbow, then marched her up the path to where he'd been when he first saw her. "What on earth are you doing out here, miss?" he said to her on the trip. "And who are you?"

Before she could answer, there came the sound of hoof beats ahead of them, rapidly drawing closer. It was the man's partner, rifle in hand, reining up and springing off the beautiful black stallion, calling out, "Artie! I heard gunfire. Hansen?"

"No!" said Artie sourly. "I had to shoot a rattler before this, this **tourist **could trip over it." Grumpily he jammed his rifle back into its scabbard, then brushed past the girl to glare down at the shack again. His partner joined him, commenting, "Hansen surely heard that shot same as I did."

"Yeah, I know, Jim," said the girl's rescuer. "But what was I supposed to do? I spotted her just as she was about to wade into a nest of rattlers… How soon will Hansen make a break for it, do you think?"

"Probably as soon as he packs up what he's already printed."

"Yeah, that's what I figure too. We're about to have a gun fight on our hands and…" Artie looked down at his hands, shook his head, and said, "That girl's got me so rattled, I forgot and put my rifle away when I'm about to need it. Be right back." He turned back to his horse to retrieve the weapon.

And there was the girl, staring at him. Granted, she was a pretty little thing: rich dark curls tumbling just to her shoulders; wide, brown, ingenuous eyes; broad, generous mouth with just a hint of dimples. Staring at him. Why was she staring at him? There was something odd in her eyes, something unsettling about the intensity of her scrutiny… "Miss?" he said warily.

In fact, she had been staring at him for some time, well before he had caught her at it just now. She had noticed the other man, of course. Who wouldn't? He was superbly athletic-looking: handsome, brown-haired, blue-eyed, in the prime of his life. But it was the taller and older of the two that she'd been frankly staring at, watching him, drinking in all the details. The tan jacket with the fringe at the shoulders, the right front skirt of it folded up and buttoned back to allow him easy access to the gun at his hip. The cuffs and collar of a bright yellow shirt peeking out from under the jacket. The narrow string tie done up in a bow at his throat. All this she had seen while the man had been in profile to her as he spoke with his partner. But now at last he was facing her again and she could take in his features as well: the broad face under thick dark wavy hair, the wide-set brown eyes, the ample and currently frowning mouth.

"Artie," she said softly. "He called you Artie."

"Yes…" he responded, wondering what was going on.

"It's you," she whispered. "It's really you!" And amazingly her eyes filled with tears as she added, "You're Artemus Gor…" At this point her voice broke.

"…don," he finished for her. "Yes, I'm Artemus Gordon. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, miss."

Her right hand, which was trembling, reached out to him, her fingertips coming to rest on his chest in a touch so light he didn't even feel it through his jacket. Gently, as if she were afraid the contact would cause him to vanish like a ghost, she patted him. He was perfectly solid and real. With a soft giggle that was just this side of hysterical, she said, "You look just like that photo Elias had."

"Elias?" Artie gave her a sidelong look. "You… you don't mean my cousin Elias, do you?"

That was apparently the final confirmation she needed. With a happy grin, she cried out, "I found you!" and flung her arms around his neck.

"Um…" said Artie and glanced at Jim. Normally if some pretty young thing wanted to throw herself at him, Artie would have been perfectly happy to do the catching. But now was absolutely not a good time! "Look, sugar," he said, smiling down winsomely at her even as he endeavored to extract himself gently from her embrace, "I would love to have this, uh, conversation with you. But there's about to be a gun battle and I need to take part in it. And you need to go hide behind the horses till it's over. Which isn't to say we can't pick up from here and continue on later when there's time…" And he smiled broadly at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh my! You really **are **a flirt, aren't you?" said she.

His eyebrows shot up. "This from the girl who just flung herself into my arms?"

"Oh," she responded, releasing him. "Right." Then added, "I'm Abi."

"Well, I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Abi. But right now…"

"Abi **Gordon**," she continued. "Elias's granddaughter."

"Right now we… What?" His eyes bugged for a moment, his jaw dropping as his train of thought was violently derailed. His cousin's granddaughter! "Child, what are you doing here?" he hissed.

At the same moment, Jim called out, "Artie!" and the report of a gunshot echoed all around them. Artie instantly seized the girl and bore her to the ground, ordering her to "Stay down!" then leapt back up to grab his rifle and join in the fray.

The battle was short and intense: aim, fire, duck down, repeat. Jim was reloading when a loud rattling alerted them that something was happening. Jim glanced; a wagon had burst forth from behind the shack and was barreling away to the west. Artie had his rifle to his shoulder, tracking it, drawing a bead…

"Artie!" Jim hissed.

Artie was just concluding that there was something strange about that wagon - namely, that it was absolutely empty - when he heard Jim call his name. He glanced at Jim, saw him pointing the opposite way, and looked where he was pointing.

Tarnation! One man on a horse was galloping off to the east. Hansen! The wagon had been a decoy and he had fallen for it. Artie whirled, aiming and firing as quickly as humanly possible - but not quickly enough. He whipped off his hat and swatted it against his thigh in frustration.

"He was out of range already," Jim said in consolation. He finished loading the rifle, then ran for his horse and vaulted into the saddle. "I'll follow Hansen," he said. "You take the girl back to the Wanderer and don't let her out of your sight. I'll meet you there shortly." Turning the black stallion, Jim took off after the counterfeiter and was gone.

...

Hansen rode off pell-mell, spurring the horse for all he was worth. Lure 'em in, the Boss had said. Lure 'em! They were shootin' at him! Why couldn't the Boss have sprung his trap back in Denver, 'stead of leadin' 'em out here to the backside of nowhere?

Mace and Drury better be ready, that's all he knew. Just gotta draw 'em up this arroyo, then off to the right where the ambush was supposed to be…

Hansen glanced back. Hey! He reined up and stared back the way he'd come. Why, they weren't even followin' him! "What the Sam Hill?" he muttered.

WHAM! Hansen hadn't noticed Jim West on his big black stallion, riding along the high ground above his head. But the counterfeiter sure felt the impact when West jumped him. Both men tumbled to the ground, rolling over and over, each one striving to be the one who would end up on top.

Jim won. He pasted Hansen a good one across the jaw, then drew his gun. "All right, Hansen," said West. "Get up and come along quietly."

Hansen put up his hands, letting himself be hauled to his feet. West wrenched the gun from Hansen's holster and flung it away. "Let's move," said West and gave a shrill whistle.

There was a whinny from the high ground above - that big black stallion. It dipped its head, then turned off to one side to find a way down to where its master was.

"Wha… what about me?" Hansen said, sniveling. "My horse done run off."

"Why, you get to walk," said West. "I'll just tie your hands behind your back and you'll walk while I ride holding the end of the rope. And then you'll get to make yourself at home in the rolling cell on the train for a while."

"Y-yes sir, Mr West. Whatever you say," Hansen nodded agreeably, keeping his eyes peeled for any chance to give West the slip.

West cocked his head at him. "Well, that's interesting. How is it you know my name?"

Oops. Hansen gave West a sickly smile. Then suddenly he took off running. Curiously enough, out of all the directions he might have picked to head for, Hansen chose to dodge around West and continue on that way, fleeing toward whatever was directly behind the lawman's back.

West whirled and leveled his gun at the retreating figure, saw instantly what the man was running toward, and withheld his fire. The black stallion was trotting up and Hansen was scampering for the horse. And now he grabbed the reins, got a foot into the stirrup, swung himself up into the saddle, then fired off a mock salute at the lawman, saying, "Thanks for the horse, Mr West! You can have mine in return - if you can find it!" Laughing, he started to ride away.

Jim West smiled and gave another whistle.

Hansen suddenly found himself riding a tornado for all of about five seconds. This was followed, of course, by a short but soaring flight that ended with a crunch on the ground.

West came over and said, "All right, Hansen. Time to go."

There exists the phrase "dumb luck" because every so often someone is dumb enough for that kind of luck to kick in. Hansen apparently qualified, so when he sprang up and threw himself at West, he managed to knock West not only down but out as well. The lawman's head happened to crack against a rock on the ground, and West lay still.

Hansen scrambled to his feet, expecting West to do the same. Nothing. Hansen crept closer, saw West's revolver on the ground and kicked it away, then found his own gun and started to holster it. But then he thought out loud, "I know the Boss said to lure 'em in. And where that other fellow Gordon is, I dunno. But I do know one thing, and that's that I am sick and tired of West!" Lifting his gun, he aimed it at the unconscious man and drew back the hammer.

From behind Hansen there came a distinctly angry sound. The counterfeiter whipped around to find himself confronted by the lawman's horse! The stallion reared up, looming over him, its front hoofs dancing in the air at him. Startled, Hansen lost his footing and hit the dirt hard.

In the commotion, the revolver flew from his hand. It too landed hard, not to mention loudly. The gunshot echoed off the surrounding high ground, rattling the already unnerved Hansen. Forget this! Hansen ran for the gun, snatched it up and jammed it into its holster, then hotfooted it off into the direction he had last seen his horse. The Boss might not like him leaving West out here like this, but at the moment Hansen didn't much care.

The black stallion circled back to its rider, nudging Jim West gently on the side of the face. No response. The horse shook out its mane and whuffed at the fallen man, then jerked upright, smelling a new smell on the breeze. Off the stallion trotted, following the smell into a nearby box canyon. The tall blue box standing incongruously in the canyon didn't particularly register on the horse, but the tall man in the brown overcoat running this way did. The stallion whuffed at him and pawed the ground.

"I just heard a shot," said the man. "Do you know anything about that?" He came up to the horse and patted its nose, stroking its neck. "And what are you doing out here all on your own?" he added. "You have tack on, so you must have a rider somewhere… What's that? Timmy fell in the well? Oh, not Timmy... Jimmy... er, **Jim**. And he did fall? Lead on!"

The man followed as the stallion led the way back to Jim West. Seeing the unconscious West, the stranger ran to his side and pulled a small metallic rod from inside his jacket pocket. The blue light on the tip of the rod glowed as an electronic whine filled the air. "Hmm. My my, but it's a good thing you came and found me when you did, dear fellow! This man has suffered a brain hemorrhage, as well as a fracture of the occipital. Without prompt medical attention, he… well, the result wouldn't go well for him; let's just put it that way. However, as I **am **prompt medical attention…" He gently rolled the injured man over. Then, changing some settings, the man used the rod once more.

The stallion whinnied softly, dipping its head repeatedly. "Ah," said the stranger. "Don't worry, dear fellow. I've fixed everything. Your friend should be all right shortly. You just, uh, watch over him till he wakes, hmm?" He stood up and came to the horse's side, caressing the powerful animal gently. And here he made a discovery. "Ah! You have a blanket rolled up at the back of your saddle. Excellent!" He removed the bedroll, shook it out, and used it to make an impromptu pallet for the still-unconscious man.

"That should do it," said the stranger. He glanced at the horse once more. "Oh? There's another horse about, and this one does not want its rider to find it? Well, thank you for the information. I shall have a look."

The stranger gave the stallion a last fond pat on the neck, then wandered off and disappeared. Jim's horse stayed with its rider until at last the lawman blinked his eyes open, shook his head, winced, and sat up. He glanced up at his horse. "Hey, boy. How long was I out? And what became of Hansen?"

Jim got up, staring at the pallet for a bit before taking it up and rerolling it to put it on the saddle where it belonged. He'd always known he had a smart horse, but he'd never dreamed it was clever enough to spread out a bedroll, much less be able to move a man onto it!

He cast about for a bit, found his revolver, then located Hansen's tracks and set out after the counterfeiter, the faithful stallion following along behind him.


	3. The Train

**The Train**

Artie had watched Jim ride off after the brief gun battle. Still upset with himself for having been fooled by the empty wagon, he jammed his hat back onto his head before putting the rifle away in its scabbard. Then he mounted his own horse and reached down to the girl, catching her by the arm and helping her to swing up onto the horse behind him. Unlike Jim, he had no need of haste and so set off at a gentle pace for the journey back to the train.

He understood perfectly well why Jim had said not to let little Miss Abi out of his sight. It was a mighty huge coincidence for some young (not to mention pretty) relative of his to show up out of the blue in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a stakeout. Why was she here? And was she really who she claimed to be? Might she be instead a confederate of Hansen's, sent to distract the agents so that the counterfeiter could make a break for it? Artie wondered if perhaps he should have searched the girl before taking her up on the horse with him. Being behind his back, she could easily get the drop on him if she had a weapon.

Casually, he stretched and shifted a bit, leaning back against her. Well, if she had anything concealed along the part of her that his back was in contact with, he certainly didn't feel it. All he felt was Abi herself nestling against him - which didn't feel half bad, come to think of it. Er - not that he ought to be enjoying that, he told himself. After all, if she wasn't who she said she was and was working with Hansen, then she was a Bad Girl. And on the other hand, if she really was who she said she was, then she was his cousin. And either way, he really shouldn't be enjoying the way she was draped against him resting her cheek between his shoulder blades with her arms clasped tightly around his waist – and tighter every time she felt off-balance, which was very frequently. Obviously the girl wasn't used to riding a horse.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Um… I think so," came a less than steady reply, followed by silence.

"So," said Artie after a bit. "How is Elias?"

"I don't know," she said. "I haven't seen him."

"Ah." When she said nothing more, he asked, "Now, which of his sons is your father?"

After a brief pause, she replied, "Harper."

"Really?" He wanted badly to turn and look at her face. "I wouldn't think Harper would be old enough to have a daughter your age. What are you, twenty? Twenty-five?"

"Twenty-three."

Twenty-three? No, that definitely didn't sound right. They rode in silence for a couple of minutes more while Artie tried to recall just how old Harper Gordon was. Then, laying that aside for the nonce, he started the conversational ball rolling again with, "So, Abi, did your father ever tell you about the time he climbed up that apple tree and disturbed a hornet's nest?"

Immediately she responded, "That wasn't Harper; that was his brother Dale."

"Oh, right, right," Artie replied. And her answer was right; it had been Dale instead. And yet even so, he knew her answer was wrong as well.

Once again Artie took her down memory lane. "And did you hear of the time when your grandpa and I were boys? We were playing pirates, whacking at each other with sticks, pretending to sword-fight - and I accidentally broke his arm."

"And that wasn't Elias; it was his brother Rufus. Am I under suspicion?"

He didn't answer. Certainly she knew the family stories, but her responses were putting him on alert. Why was she referring to all these relatives by their first names? She should have called them Uncle Dale and Great Uncle Rufus. Elias should have been Grandpa or Gramps or some such. And Harper! Especially she should have called Harper Father, or Pa, or Daddy.

What kind of child calls her own father by his first name?

...

When they arrived at the Wanderer, Artie stopped first to chat briefly with the engine crew, then opened the stable car, let down the ramp, and led his horse inside. Abi watched with fascination as he first stripped the tack off and put it away, then rubbed down the horse and made sure it had food and water.

After he was done, instead of taking the short route into the varnish car, he escorted Abi around to the rear platform, gave her a hand up the steps, and let her in that way. And the girl instantly stopped dead in the doorway, trying to somehow stare at everything all at once. "Wow," she whispered. "It's not the…" and the next word Artie didn't quite catch - tortoise? - "but it sure is… Wow!"

"Ah… Abi my dear," said Artemus, still standing outside on the platform behind her. "May we move on inside now?"

"Oh! Sorry." In they went and he shut the door. He took off his hat and jacket, tossing them onto a nearby chair, but opted to keep his gun belt on for the time being. Meanwhile, Abi was wandering slowly about the parlor, taking in simply everything. She reached to pick up a statuette.

"Ah-ah-ah!"

She started guiltily, hand arrested in midair. "I wasn't going to hurt your things," she said.

"I trust not; you're hardly a baby," Artie replied. "However," and he caught her eyes in a level stare, "some of my things can hurt **you**. There are booby traps."

"Oh. Oh! That's right. I was forgetting."

"Forgetting? How could you even know? Elias doesn't know."

Instantly she shut her mouth. Seeing that he had removed his hat, she took hers off as well and came and added it to the pile on the chair. Plucking at the long sleeves of her blouse, she said, "Ugh, it's hot!"

"Well," he responded, "it is the desert."

Looking down at her feet, she added, "Can I at least take my shoes off?"

"Those are boots, not shoes. And if you're asking my permission, you want to say 'may,' not 'can.' But why would you want to take them off?"

"Because I hate these things! They're hot and they pinch and the heels are so high, they make my ankles wobble. And he told me to take the trainers. You can run in trainers. But no, I saw these and they were so cute and cowboy-ish, and they matched the rest of the outfit. And he told me, 'Now, Abi, I'm sure you'll find that within two minutes you'll be hating those things.' And he was right! I wish I had listened to him and taken the trainers!"

It was an extraordinary speech, the longest Artie had heard from Abi yet, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. To begin with, what were trainers? Also, there was the curious matter of her accent. Just now, during the portion in which she'd been quoting the antecedentless "he," she had put on a touch of a British accent. Her own accent, though, had been puzzling Artie all along. He had a good ear and could generally discern quickly from which region of the country - and, in many instances, of the world - an individual came. Abi's accent sounded like all the regional dialects of the United States conflated into one - or else all the dialects purged away, leaving a general American blandness. Curious.

"Artemus?" she asked.

Her voice called him back to the topic at hand. "Hmm?"

"Really, would it bother you terribly if I took them off? Back home, I run around barefoot all the time."

He gave a shrug, saying, "Do what you want." With her boots off, he reasoned, she would at least find it hard to run away from the train; the soles of her feet would be scorched before she could get fifty yards away.

She sat down happily on one of the sofas and tried to drag the boots off to no avail. Artie had to show her where the bootjack was. And then he had to show her how to use it.

"Would you care for some refreshments?" he offered.

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

He crossed the parlor to the far door on the left, opened it, stepped into the galley, then said, "You'll need to come with me, Abi."

Oh, right. She remembered that Artemus was supposed to watch over her every minute, for she was still under suspicion. Padding after him, she said sadly, "I get the impression you don't like me very much."

"Whether I like you or not has nothing to do with it," he said as she followed him into the galley. "My concern is that I don't know you very well. Or, in fact, at all."

Bringing out a silver tray, he quickly assembled and arranged various foodstuffs on it: cookies, cheese, crackers. Taking up the tray, he said, "After you," and they returned to the parlor where he set the table, then held her chair for her. He crossed to a cabinet, brought out a couple of glasses, then unstopped a beautiful cut-glass carafe and offered, "Sherry?"

"Sorry?"

"Would you care for some sherry?"

"I… I don't know. I've never had any before."

He looked at her. "You don't drink?"

"No."

His eyebrows arched. And she thought she could pass herself off as a Gordon! Taking up her glass, he poured in a small amount of the sherry, saying, "You can try a little, and if you don't care for it, you don't have to finish it. Fair enough?"

"I guess." She sounded dubious.

He poured his own glass, stopped the carafe, brought the glasses to the table, then took his own seat. "Now," he said, "hold up your glass. And we gently tap them together…" He clinked his glass against hers. And her pocket beeped.

She started slightly. Had he heard that? She didn't think so; he was still smiling at her, waiting for her to try the sherry.

She took a sip.

Gasped.

Choked.

Artemus reached out and hastily took her glass from her, set both glasses down on the table, then jumped up and hurried to pour her some water.

As soon as his back was turned, Abi, still coughing, reached into the pocket of her riding skirt, pulled out her cell phone, flipped it open, saw that she had a new text message, then thumbed the button to view it:

To: AbiMG  
From: THE_DOCTOR  
Message: Where r u?

She flipped the phone closed again and returned it to her pocket just as Artie turned back to bring her the water. He was apologizing profusely.

She downed about half the glass, stopped coughing and whispered, "Thanks."

"I'm so very sorry," he said yet again. "Are you sure you're feeling all right now, Abi?"

"Yes, much better." She felt a bit bad about tricking him. The fact that she really had disliked the sherry made her conscience feel not quite so bruised. Imagine if she'd liked it, she told herself. And now she wouldn't be able to ask for more!

"Is there anything else I can get you?" Artie was asking.

Some privacy to reply to that text message, she thought. She still didn't understand what the Doctor had done to her phone to make it work here. She knew good and well that cell phones need a cell network, which certainly did not exist here in the 1870's. But he had done it – pointed that thing he called a sonic screwdriver at the phone and now it worked. But how was she going to text him a reply without Artemus catching her at it?

Hmm… Rubbing at the back of her neck, she said, "Could I… could I maybe get some air, please?"

"You haven't had any of the refreshments yet."

"I know. I…" She gave a wan smile. "I'm… feeling a little queasy now. I'd really like to get some air." She glanced at the outside door and chewed a fingernail.

"Ginger water," said Artemus. "Best thing for an upset stomach."

"Uh, ginger what?"

"Never had some? Vinegar, sugar, a little ginger to warm your stomach, and nice cold water. Calms an upset stomach right down. I'll make you some. In the meantime…" He refilled her water glass, then put a small stack of crackers on her plate. "These are good for nausea as well. Now, it won't take me but a couple of minutes. You just sit right there and rest." And he disappeared into the galley.

Leaving her alone! She pulled out the phone, brought up the message again, then started typing out the reply, holding the phone below the level of the table and glancing at the galley door after each letter, trying hard not to get caught.

She had gotten as far as "On train called Wande" when Artemus returned. Snapping the phone shut, she slipped it back into her pocket and stuffed a cracker into her mouth. "Now it's a bit strong," he warned as he poured a glass of the ginger water and passed it to her, then took his seat opposite her again.

She took a sip and choked, but this time for real.

"Take some water," he advised. She did. "Now some more ginger water."

"I really don't…"

"Ah-ah-ah! It's good for what ails you. Take your time, but finish it all. Dr Gordon's orders."

It was sweet the way he was fussing over her; she would have enjoyed the attention immensely if she'd really been feeling bad. He reached across the table and laid the back of his hand on her forehead, then felt along the sides of her neck below either ear. "There's no fever," he said. "Probably just your stomach protesting against the sherry, since you weren't used to it. Eat a little something; that should help."

"I really think some fresh air…" Glancing at the door again, she pulled at her nose, then flicked the underside of it with her forefinger.

"Abi my dear," said Artie, stretching out a hand and taking hold of hers. Catching her eyes with his own as well, his voice gentle but firm, he told her, "You are not going outside. Jim said to bring you here and keep watch over you. And that's what I'm going to do until he comes back and says otherwise. Now I can open some windows…"

"Would you?"

"My pleasure." Giving her fingers a squeeze, he rose and went about the parlor throwing the windows open. But he did so much too fast for her to even think of bringing up the reply on the phone to finish the message. Frustrating!

Coming back to the table, he sat down opposite her once more, smiled at her, saluted her with his glass of sherry and took a sip. Indicating her glass of ginger water, he said, "Drink up, Abi. You want to feel better, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Artemus. I don't like the ginger water," she admitted. Her fingers were twisting in her hair.

"I don't care for the taste of it myself, my dear," he replied. "But don't think of it as a drink to be savored. Think of it as medicine." A twinkle crept into his eyes as he added, "You could try pinching your nose shut and just tossing it down."

She grimaced as she glanced down at the glasses in front of her, then looked back up at Artemus. He was smiling at her still, his eyes continuing to twinkle as he waited. Her own eyes narrowing, she said suddenly, "You're enjoying this!"

He leaned back, folding his arms. "Am I?" he said. His eyes holding hers again, he added, "I wouldn't be if I thought you were genuinely sick."

Her eyes now went completely round. Pulling at and flicking her nose again, she dropped her eyes and muttered, "Ok, now… **now **I feel sick!" Slowly lifting her eyes again, she asked, "What gave me away?"

He gave a snort of a laugh. "Really, what **didn't **give you away? Abi, you've been a bundle of nervous mannerisms. You did this one alone at least twice," and he demonstrated the gesture of pulling at the nose, then flicking it with the forefinger.

"Oh joys," said Abi. "Now I'm doing Dad's nose flicky thingy." She folded her arms on the table and flopped her chin on top of them.

"So Harper does that too?"

She cut her eyes at him. "Yeah, fine, whatever." Then added, "Dad does it all the time."

"Perhaps you should call it the Gordon family nose flick," said Artie. "Because I do it all the time too. As I said, it's a nervous mannerism. I tend to do it when I find a situation confusing or overwhelming." He leaned forward. "Which brings us back to you. **You're **in an overwhelming situation, aren't you, Abi?" He reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "Don't you think it's time for you to come clean now, _ma petite cousine?_" For the time being, he thought, let her presume I've accepted her story that she is my cousin.

She shrugged. "What does it matter? You won't believe me. I wouldn't believe me, and I lived through it."

He extended a hand to her, laying it palm-up on the table. "Try me," he said.

She looked at the hand, then looked at his face. Then, slowly, she laid her own hand in his. "I can't tell you everything," she said as he closed his hand around hers.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because he made me promise not to talk about certain things."

"He," Artie repeated. "This is the same anonymous 'he' you mentioned earlier? The British man who told you not to wear the boots?"

She winced. "Oh man, you're doing it. Exactly what he warned me you would do." And to the question that appeared in his eyes, she replied, "He told me I had to be very careful what I let slip in front of my cousin Artemus - well, in front of James West as well, but especially in front of you. He said the two of you would take whatever I might say and not only use it to put two and two together, but you might well use it to derive the cube root of pi."

He snorted and she grinned. "Well," said Artie, "I like your friend's opinion of us! But surely if he knows so much about us, we must have met him somewhere before?"

"If you had, he didn't say."

"Who is he?"

"I can't tell you."

He squeezed her hand gently. "Abi my dear," he said, his eyes catching hers as he smiled at her winsomely, encouragingly, "you need to tell me."

"You don't understand, Artemus," she responded, squeezing his hand right back. "I'm not being evasive; I really can't tell you. I don't know who he is. He didn't tell me his name, only some sort of academic title. And besides that, this is exactly the sort of thing he made me promise about. He said that since I was insisting on wandering off on my own - which he did **not **recommend I do; he said bad things tend to happen when his companions wander off - but because I wanted to go by myself to find you, I had to promise him that I wouldn't talk about who he is, or how we came to be here, or anything else I knew I shouldn't talk about. And not to let anyone see anything I knew they shouldn't see." She made large and solemn puppy-eyes at him. "I'm sorry, Artemus. I don't make promises lightly, and I don't break them if I can help it."

"How you came to be here," said Artie, his eyes twinkling at her. "But I already know that, Abi. You came here on the Tortoise."

She started violently. "What! But how did you…? Wait… say that again?"

"You came here on the Tortoise. A private train I presume, like this one, the Wanderer, but named the Tortoise. Silly name for a train," he added under his breath.

A slow grin spread across her face. In fact, she laughed. "Tortoise!" she exclaimed. "But how did you ever…?"

He nodded toward the door. "When you first set foot in here, _ma chère cousine_, you looked around admiringly and said it wasn't the Tortoise." He smiled confidently. "Have any other cube roots you'd care for me to derive?"

She shook her head, marveling. "Oh Artemus, you are a wonder, an absolute wonder!" And I," she added ruefully, "have a very big mouth."

"Ah. Well, I've been known to say the same of myself. But tell me, Abi. Why did you pretend to be sick?"

"Well…" How to phrase this without saying what she shouldn't say? "See, when he allowed me to go off on my own to find you, he, uh, he said he'd let me have a couple of hours and then it would be time for him to take me home again. My time is up. I know he's looking for me by now." Oh, how she knew he was looking for her by now!

"Couple of hours - that's a tight schedule. And so you were hoping that, if I permitted you to go outside, you could meet up with him and leave?"

"Something like that."

"I see. Then why didn't you run off while I was making the ging… Oh right. No shoes." Abi had stuck her stocking feet - lurid fuchsia socks, even worse than the garish green vest! - out beyond the corner of the table and wiggled her toes. "But remember, my dear," Artie added, "even if your friend had shown up, I cannot let you leave."

"I know." She picked up a cracker and set it upright on its corner, twisting it back and forth.

"So if your British friend turns up, he'll just have to stay and wait for Jim to come back, the same as you."

The cracker dropped. Oh, I'd like to see you try **that**, thought Abi.

"In the meantime," said Artemus, "a, uh, thought occurs to me." He smiled, putting a sparkle into his eyes. Let's see how long her story of us being cousins stands up when I do this! he thought. Lifting her hand which he had been holding all this time, he drew it towards him and, with his eyes locked on her face, he slowly kissed

each…

finger…

one…

by…

one.

She stiffened, her eyes round with shock. "What…" The word failed to have any sound behind it, so she tried again. "What are you doing?" And now her voice came out as a squeak.

"Well," he said, a lazily confident smile on his face, "the thought which occurred to me is that - if we weren't cousins of course - we might, ah…" And now he turned her hand over and tenderly kissed her palm. "…get to know each other a bit better? So to speak?"

"Ar… Artemus…" He saw conflict racing all over her face. She obviously liked the kisses - yes, liked them very much. "I… I…" And now her eyes dropped. "Oh, Artemus, you're so tempting! You don't know how much I wish I could tell you that it's all a lie and we're not really cousins. But…" She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. "All right. Part of it is a lie. I'm not exactly Elias's granddaughter."

"That's what I thought. And Harper…?"

She shook her head. "…isn't my father, no. But you and I are cousins. I…" Again she made the solemn puppy-eyes. "I just can't explain the exact relationship without breaking my promise."

He frowned. "Really? How would it break your promise for you to tell me what sort of cousins we are?"

She was silent for a moment. "It just would. That's all I can say."

All right, he thought, let's try another approach. "Well, if your father isn't Harper, who is?"

"Uh…"

"Thinking up a lie?"

"No, trying to figure out if telling you violates my promise. Well, his name is Chas."

"Chas? Isn't that normally short for Charles?"

"Yeah, it is Charles. But he goes by Chas."

Artie thought for a bit. "I don't recall a Charles in the Gordon family."

She nodded. "Neither did I. Unusual, it being such an ordinary name. But then we Gordons don't much go in for ordinary names, do we?"

We Gordons, she had said. So she was holding to that story at least. "What about you, though?" he said. "Abigail is fairly normal name."

"Abigail! Who's Abigail?"

That was a strong reaction! "Then Abi isn't a nickname for…?"

"My name is Abi!" she interrupted. "A-b-i. Nothing more, nothing less." And my! how her eyes glittered!

"I beg your pardon, Miss Abi," said Artemus. "I stand corrected."

"Oh, it's all right," she said, calming down. "I just… People have jumped to that conclusion all my life and I guess I'm a little defensive about it, that's all."

Defensive - and it came across as completely real as well. What a bundle of contradictions this Abi Gordon was! Artie patted her hand, then released it. "I apologize if I upset you by kissing your hand."

"Um… Upset isn't exactly the word for it. I…" There was a long pause. "I… uh… Oh, Artemus! I've heard about you all my life. Dad and Grandpa, they told me all about you. Artemus Gordon, the family celebrity!" She smiled nostalgically. "You were my bedtime stories growing up."

"Really?" She apparently was neglecting to do the math, but he was running the numbers through his head. She was twenty-three years old; what had he been up to twenty-three years before that her father Chas - whom Artemus did not recall - would have used for bedtime story material? His showboating days? No, it didn't add up. And yet… From the way she was now acting, he was sure she wasn't acting. The memories she was relating to him, to her mind at least, were absolutely real.

Is she mad? he wondered. Insanity would explain a lot… Well, for now, keep her talking…

"Oh yes!" she was saying. "I know all sorts of stories about you. Things that happened when you were young - like, well, like your parents passing away and your Great Aunt Maude raising you till she passed away too, and then you going to live with your cousin Lemuel when you were twelve, and things that happened there, such as Rufus's broken arm. Oh, and the porch glider incident, but that was with Aunt Maude, wasn't it? And your school days, talking your way out of beatings from bullies and punishments from teachers. And lots of stuff you did before the War. The showboating days. The King Lear thing. And how your troupe managed to smuggle escaping slaves north. And then right before the War, you on your own, working as a conductor on the Underground Railroad. And then the War itself, all sorts of things you did for the Union side, spying and all that. And of course all sorts of amazing stuff you're doing right now as one of the first agents of the brand-new Secret Service." She grinned at him, seeming not to notice how stunned he was. Why, she knew more about his life than he did nearly - including some of his history that he had long before made up out of whole cloth!

With a tilt of her head, she concluded, "Of all the relatives in the extended and extensive Gordon family, you have always been my favorite. Of course eventually I got old enough to wonder how accurate their stories about you were, and whether the Artemus Gordon in them was anything at all like the real you. That's when I, uh… well…" She suddenly took an absorbing interest in tracing a finger along the pattern of the china plate in front of her. "That's when I starting wishing I could meet you. Not that it was ever going to happen; I knew that. But I could daydream…"

"Daydream? What sort of daydreams?" he asked.

"Oh… you know…" She was keeping her gaze locked steadfastly on her plate. "Getting to meet you. Talk to you. That sort of thing."

"Like what we're doing now?"

She nodded, still without looking at him.

"Only that?" he persisted. "Nothing more?"

Again she nodded, but her fingers of her other hand were starting to twist in her hair. Hmm, thought Artie, if she also flicks her nose…

Flick.

So she was lying again. But about what? About her daydreams? What sort of daydreams might she… He thought again of her reaction when he had kissed her hand, and her assertion that he was "tempting," that she wished she could lie and say they weren't cousins. Hmm. Could the child be infatuated with him?

To test his theory, he said, "I'm glad to hear that, Abi. I've known some young ladies such as yourself to develop a case of, oh… puppy love on an older man such as myself and…"

"Puppy love!" The scorn in her voice for that phrase was illuminating, to say the least, as was her subsequent assertion of, "And you're not old."

"Well, thank you for the compliment. Some would disagree with that. And at any rate, I'm somewhat older than **you**."

"Oh, I don't care about that," she said. "I like older men. Or at least…" She put her head to one side and considered for a bit before saying, "You know what, Artemus? If I had access to a time machine so that I could choose any point in your life at which I would intersect it, I would choose the you that you are right now. You're perfect."

"Well, that's very sweet of you, Abi. I'm flattered."

"I don't do flattery."

No, but I do guile, thought Artie. And she had just handed him the key to getting her to open up and tell him everything. All he needed to do was…

"Come with me, Abi," he said to her cordially. He rose and took her hand, then led her to the nearer of the two sofas and seated her at his side. He smiled at her, then raised her hand to his lips and began kissing each finger individually once again.

A small and hungry sound escaped her. "I… Artemus, please don't do that."

"But you like it," he responded, and kissed her palm anew. He lifted her hand to settle his cheek inside her palm. "I know you like this."

"I… I… Artemus…"

Ah, he nearly had her now. She would crack at any moment and spill everything. "Abi," he crooned, slipping his other arm around her shoulders, bending her backwards, hovering his lips half an inch from hers. "I'm sure you've heard the expression, 'kissing cousins,' Abi my sweet, and you are so…**mrph!**"


	4. The Deal

**The Deal**

Suddenly it was Artie who was bent backwards, and Abi's lips were certainly not hovering over his. She was kissing him, wildly, fiercely, desperately, her greedy mouth on his, tasting him, nibbling at him, devouring him, one hand around the back of his head ruffling through his hair, the other caressing his face and shoulders and back, while her nubile young body was pressed against him, lying on top of him...

It was something like fighting off an octopus, but he managed at last to break the liplock. "Abi! Great jumping balls of St Elmo's Fire, what was that?"

"I'm sorry!" Abruptly she vanished, reappearing at the far end of the sofa, knees drawn up and head drawn down, crouched in a fetal position. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Abi! Great Scott, child!" He stretched a hand out toward her.

"Don't touch me!"

"Ah… Abi, I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have to be afraid of me."

"It's not you I'm afraid of," she murmured brokenly. "Oh, this was a bad idea! I didn't think this through. I never should have come!"

"Would you explain to me, Abi, what you are talking about?"

"He said I was going to act like a fan girl, and I laughed. But he was right! I glomped you and kissed you, and I wanted to kiss you and kiss you and go on kissing you and… I need to get out of here! I need to go home!"

"And you know that isn't going to happen until Jim comes back and tells you that you can go." And consarn it, Jim, what's keeping you? "Abi," he added, "when you mentioned daydreams, what you really meant was not simply meeting me and talking with me. You really meant…"

She wouldn't look at him. "…that I was daydreaming about kissing you, yes."

"Kissing! Abi my girl, that was not a kiss; that was an attack!"

"Well, I… You kept teasing me with kisses, and I finally couldn't stand it any longer. I… Artemus, I love you."

And now she thought she was in love - just as he had expected. "Abi," he sighed, "you can't be in love with someone you've just met."

"But it's not like that. For me, I've known you all my life, and been in love with you for most of it." She looked at him with large and miserable eyes, then buried her face in her arms again. "I wish I hadn't come."

"It's a little late for that, you know." As she nodded, he regarded her, mulling things over. "Look," he said at length, "how about this: I won't tease you with kisses anymore, and you don't attack me anymore. All right?"

She nodded again.

"But you do understand, don't you, that you have to tell me everything! Or at least," he added as she began to protest, "everything you haven't made a promise not to mention. All right?"

"All right. But I was already willing to do that. You didn't need to… to kiss me into compliance. It's just that…" She sighed and hid her face in her arms once more. "Like I already said. You won't believe a word of it."

He held a hand out to her. "And as I already said: Try me."

She looked at the hand. "You sure you want me anywhere near you?" she asked pointedly.

"Well. As long as you don't… what was your word? glomp me? I think I'm fairly safe."

Slowly she unfolded herself from her fetal position. She slid closer, then sat sideways on the sofa, facing him. She regarded him for a long time and finally said, "All right. It… Well, I guess the place to start is with Bandy."

"All right. Who's Bandy?"

"Bandit. My little dog. He…" She swallowed, tears beginning to rim her eyelids. "I call him my little puggle boy - part pug, part beagle. Called him, I mean. He…" She lifted the hem of that garish vest and dabbed at her eyes. "Ok, see, I came home from work, and Dad wasn't home yet. Which is normal; his commute is like an hour and a half longer than mine. And there was Bandy, all happy to see me after being cooped up in the house alone all day. So I took him out for a walk. Same as always. Let the little guy run out his wiggles. Ok?

"Well, back behind the house is this peach orchard. Bandy likes - liked - me to throw sticks for him out there. He never would fetch anything for me, just run after it and, I don't know, bark it into submission. Then come chasing back and want me to throw another stick.

"That's… that's what we were doing when…" She stopped and bowed her head.

"Go on, Abi."

"This is where it gets weird. I don't know how to…" She sighed heavily, then looked him in the eye. "Artemus, I had just thrown a stick and it landed in the middle of the orchard and, and then the ground began to shake."

"All right. You had an earthquake."

"But we don't have earthquakes where I live! I've never heard of any. And anyway, what happened next was certainly no earthquake!"

"Go on."

She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. "This… this thing erupted up out of the ground. Ok? It was… well, there's no other word for it. It was a tentacle."

"A tentacle," he echoed.

"Yes! You see? I told you you wouldn't believe me!"

"Go on."

She paused, then continued. "It was, uh, pink. Or maybe kind of orange. Anyway, it kept stretching up higher and higher. And then there were more of them in a kind of ring around… Um… Around a…" She ducked her head as she said the next word, muffling it.

"Around a what?" Artie prompted.

Again she looked up at the ceiling. "A mouth," she said. "Ok? The thing had a mouth in the middle, opening and closing and…" She shuddered. "And Bandy was barking at it, running in and back, scared but brave, the way a small dog will act, you know. And then…" Tears started to roll down her cheeks and she lifted the hem of her vest to mop at them.

Artie slipped closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Abi?"

"Oh Artemus! One of the tentacles snaked out and, and grabbed Bandy and took him up and… and dropped him into the monster's mouth. It, it ate him!" And at that point, she lost control completely and began crying in earnest.

Artie pulled the sobbing girl into his arms and held her, murmuring soft sounds of comfort to her. Whether he believed her or not - and he and Jim had seen some truly unbelievable things over the years - obviously Abi believed she had seen what she was describing. She wept, grieving over her little dog, while he held her, letting her cry herself out.

At length she fell silent, resting her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head gently, comfortingly. And she stiffened.

"You said you weren't going to tease me with kisses anymore."

"That wasn't teasing. Or at least, I didn't intend it to be teasing, little Abi. It was supposed to be consoling."

"I'm not little Abi," she said.

"For right now you are. You can be little Abi for a while as you mourn for your pet. And I can be Uncle Artie, commiserating with you."

She snuggled deeper into his arms. "All right. But I'm not a little girl."

Gently he placed another kiss on the top of her head and said, "Big girl then."

She gave a hiccup of a laugh and whispered, "Oh you!"

He gave her another minute to compose herself, then asked, "What happened next, Abi?"

"I… I don't want to remember. It was awful! The… that monster. It…" She shuddered again. "It… spat out… It was like a husk, floating down. It… had emptied out Bandy and…" A raw edge of hysteria was creeping into her voice.

"Shhh," said Artie hastily. "You don't have to remember that part. What came after?"

"What came after is that the tentacles came after me! And I was so scared, I was paralyzed. Like when you were trying to get me away from that nest of rattlesnakes, and I couldn't move."

"But you evidently did move, because you're here now."

"I didn't move. Someone moved me. A hand grabbed my wrist and a voice said, 'Run!' And he dragged me away - just in time."

"He," said Artie. "The same he? The British he?"

She nodded. "Once I started running, I didn't stop until I saw Bandy's doghouse and dove inside it. Then I peered out and asked the stranger who had just saved my life, 'What is that thing?' And he… babbled."

"He what?"

She looked up at him. "You're the linguist, Artemus. I wish you could have heard him, because maybe you could have made head or tails out of what he was saying. As for me… I mean, I graduated college. I have a degree in Mathematics with a minor in Physics - you want fries with that?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. It's a joke. The point is that I used to hang out with the brains, the math and science geeks. I picked up all kinds of scientific and technical jargon when I was at the University. And that man's talk had me baffled! He finally got to the end and said, 'Right?' And all I could say was, 'Right what?'

"Well… He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out this gadget about the size of a softball and also a very large slingshot and he told me, 'I'm going to kill it. And you're going to help me.'"

The size of a what? Artie wondered, but did not interrupt.

"His plan," Abi continued, "was for me to stand just outside the range of the tentacles and draw the monster's attention so that it would open its mouth, and then he would use the slingshot to lob the gadget - well, I called it a fiendish thingy; it was some sort of bomb - down the thing's gullet. And I told him he was nuts to think I was going to risk my life and be bait for that thing, and I retreated inside the doghouse.

"That's when he offered me the deal: if I would cooperate and help him kill the monster in my back yard, he would give me a trip. One trip, anywhere I wanted to go, and then back home again. Well, I didn't have to think about that at all. I knew where I wanted to go. I wanted to come meet you. So - we blew up the monster, and then he brought me here."

She said no more, simply rested against him, her cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him, waiting. Would he believe her?

Artie frowned, thinking. The tale was incredible, of course. But how many times had he and Jim dealt with the incredible - standing at the edge of normalcy and looking over into the abyss of insanity, into a world where the impossible was all too present? The time when Dr Loveless had introduced him to Jim shrunk to a height of six inches came to mind. So did a certain man who had prepared a potion from diamonds to permit him to move impossibly fast, and another man who had used the prodigious power of his focused mind to transport them bodily into the past.

Artie's arm tightened around Abi briefly, and he smiled down at her. "And here you are. But how did your friend know where to find me? Jim and I didn't even know we'd be here till we arrived yesterday. So how could your friend know to bring you here?"

"He, ah…" Severely editing the truth, she said, "He's just very good at showing up at the right place and the right time. He certainly did for me."

Hmm, thought Artie, that was a non-answer. But he decided to let that pass. "Tell me, Abi," he went on. "Who is he? I know you said that he made you promise not to say anything about him, but I really need to… What was that?"

Abi's pocket had beeped again.

"What, uh… what was what?" said Abi.

"I heard a chirp," said Artie. "And there was a buzzing as well. Some sort of vibration. It was right here between us."

"A cricket?" she suggested.

"No, it sounded more mechanical than that, not like something alive. Get up, Abi. I want to search." And as soon as she vacated the sofa, Artie started rummaging under the cushions, feeling around for whatever had made the sound.

Taking advantage of her cousin's distraction, Abi glanced about, then slipped into the galley for some privacy to check her phone. The latest message read:

Stop ignoring me. Time 2 go NOW.

Bringing up her saved draft, she swiftly added the final three letters and the full stop so that it read "On train called Wanderer." Then she pressed Send.

Ugh! She had forgotten! The incoming message tone was a beep, but the outgoing tone was a warble. And there was no way Artemus could have missed hearing that!

In fact, here he was now, suddenly appearing in the galley doorway. Quickly she snapped the phone shut and jammed it into her pocket, but not quickly enough.

He loomed over her. "Abi, what was that?" he demanded.

"What was what?" she asked again, looking up at him with those big wide innocent brown eyes of hers.

"The thing I just saw you put in your pocket," he responded.

"…pocket?"

He sighed. "Abi, don't do this. I was beginning to like you, and was hoping I could trust you. Hand it over to me right now, whatever it is you're concealing from me." He held out his hand. "Right now, Abi."

Abruptly she turned and bolted out the other galley door behind her and found herself in the corridor. She glanced left, then turned right and hit the door that let her back into the parlor.

Artie sighed. He paused a second to let her get well inside the parlor in the hopes that she wouldn't double back and lead him on a chase up the corridor, then he burst through the door he had just entered by, his hand automatically reaching to pull the cord in the cabinet to his left which would engage the bolts on the main door of the varnish car, locking her in.

Surprisingly though, she wasn't running for that door, nor was she doubling back toward the corridor. Instead, he found she wasn't running at all. She was standing at the far side of the table from him, picking up the crackers from her plate and cramming them, one right after another, into her mouth.

He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. "All right, Abi, what are you doing?"

She pointed at her mouth, made a mumbling sound and shook her head.

Smiling sweetly at her, he said, "Yes I see, Abi. You have your mouth full so you can't talk to me right now. Do you realize how childish that makes you look? And you can't stay like that forever. Eventually you'll either have to swallow or spit out the mess - preferably the former. But it's not really putting anything off, _chère cousine_, because I'm not asking you to talk to me; I'm asking you to hand over the device you have in your pocket." And he held out his hand again.

And she again shook her head.

Artie considered making a lunge for her, but with the table squarely between them, he could envision any attempt to grab her turning rapidly into a game of Ring-a-Ring-a-Rosie. So instead, he started clearing the table.

She watched him warily, her mouth still full, her eyes showing how much she was wondering what he was up to. He went on blithely piling things onto the silver tray, then took it up and went into the galley to set the laden tray on the counter. His back was to her for a couple of seconds, but he had no fear now of her running away. Curiosity, he was sure, would keep her where she was.

And he was right.

The only items left on the table now were the four glasses. He took up both glasses of sherry and drank from his own. "Mmm," he sighed appreciatively. "That's good. I was thirsty. Aren't you thirsty, Abi?" He smiled congenially at her as he set her sherry down behind him on the cabinet between the two doors, then picked up one of her remaining glasses. "Which is this one, I wonder? Water, or ginger water? They look so much alike." He set that glass down on the cabinet as well, then took up her final glass. "You must certainly be very thirsty by now, Abi. Those crackers are so dry, aren't they? Dry and hard to swallow. No matter how much you try. How will you ever swallow them, Abi, unless you have something to wash them down?" He studied her glass in his hand, swirling its contents gently, then glanced over at her again. He smiled amiably and finished off his own glass, then set both glasses he'd been holding down on the cabinet. Stepping back, he waved a hand at her three glasses and said, "There they are, Abi. Help yourself whenever you'd like." And he folded his arms, waiting.

His words had certainly worked their magic. Her mouth was as dry as cotton. She munched away diligently, wishing she hadn't tried to out-clever him with the crackers. After two unsuccessful attempts to swallow, she gave up and came around to the cabinet.

Excellent. He had lured her to the same side of the table with him. "I believe the one in the middle is the water," he said helpfully.

Not sure if she should believe him - he was obviously up to something - she ignored the sherry and picked up the other two glasses. She sniffed them. Detecting the odor of vinegar in the left-hand glass, she set that one down and drank the other. Ah! She managed at last to swallow those infernal crackers. "Oh, that's better!" she sighed as she put down the empty glass.

"I'm sure it is," his voice purred from directly behind her. Before she could react, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Leaning his head near her ear, he said, "Hello again, Abi."

She stiffened in his arms and whispered, "You're doing it again! You promised not to tease me!"

"But this isn't a kiss. It's an embrace. You can have as many of those as you'd like. Besides," and she could feel his breath tickling against the side of her neck, "is it really a tease if you actually get the kiss?"

This time he was expecting it. As a whimper escaped her, he loosened his arms slightly, knowing what she was going to do. Sure enough, she whirled and threw her arms around his neck, pulling at him, trying to drag his head down toward hers. But he took charge this time and pressed his mouth to hers first, overcoming her frenzy with a long slow kiss that took her breath away. Her hands fluttered and came to rest on his shoulders, then slipped up into his hair as his arms tightened around her waist again, drawing her closer, pressing her sweet young body against him. It was not an unpleasant sensation, actually, and Artie allowed himself a moment to enjoy the experience before continuing on with the business at hand. Keeping his right arm where it was to hold her securely against him, he discreetly moved the left, sending his hand quietly into the pocket of her riding skirt to liberate its contents.

"Got it," he said and stepped back.

"Huh? What?" His sudden absence confused her for a second. Then what he had done hit her. She slapped at her pocket, finding it empty. "Oh! You sneak! You, you pickpocket!"

"Mm-hmm!" he grinned. "Didn't they ever mention that particular talent of mine as they were telling you all those stories?"

He was fully expecting her to slap him, knowing he deserved it, and was a bit confused when she didn't. Suddenly she was laughing, a sparkle in her eyes as she skipped away from him, moving toward the very same cabinet where he'd placed all her glasses. "Of course they told me!" she said. "That's why it wasn't in my pocket anymore." And from a small eye-level shelf at the side of the cabinet she retrieved the same item he'd seen her hide in her pocket. She waggled it at him, grinned mischievously, then stowed it in her pocket once more.

"What? How did you…?"

"I put it up there as soon as I ran back in here, while you were still in the kitchen."

"Galley."

"Yeah, that. Then I started eating the crackers to throw you off. I did well?"

His mouth hung open for a second before he managed to stammer out, "Y-yes… yes, Abi, you did very well. Where did you ever learn to do a thing like that?"

"Well, duh! From you, of course! All those stories."

He shook his head in wonder. The little scamp, she had managed to gull him! And now he looked down at what he had extracted from her pocket. "So if the thing I was after was over there the whole time, what is this?"

"Well, that's the strange thing," said Abi. "I don't remember having anything else in… there…" She saw now what he had in his hands: a piece of paper, folded down small, which he was briskly unfolding. Her eyes went wide. "Oh no! No no no! I put **that **in my pocket? No, Artemus, you're not supposed to see that either! Give it back!" And she tried to snatch it from him.

The much-taller Artemus moved the paper out of her reach by the simple expedient of holding it over his head. "Ah-ah-ah!" he told her. "I stole this fair and square, and it's mine now. What's so important about it, hmm?"

It was at this point that the door to the rear platform opened and James West walked in. "Well, Artie," he was already saying as he closed the door behind him, "the short version is that Hansen managed to get away, so we'll have to…" He trailed off as he caught sight of the odd scene before him: Artie holding a sheet of paper high over his head, while that girl - what was her name? Abi? - was at his side jumping like a jackrabbit in her stocking feet, trying frantically to snatch the paper away.

"Please, Artemus!" she was crying, very nearly in both meanings of the word. "Give it back! I printed that out to show the Doctor. I didn't mean for **you **to see it!"

Instantly on the alert, Jim said, "Doctor? Doctor who - Loveless?"

"I don't know, Jim," said Artie, "but I think we may be about to find out."

Pointing at the girl, Jim ordered her to "Sit!" Miserably, she sat. Crossing to Artie's side, Jim looked on as his friend spread the paper out flat on the table.

Two photographs were printed on it side by side in crisp sepia tones. "Well that one's you," said James, tapping the photo on the left.

"Yes, and this other is my cousin Elias Gordon, Abi's purported grandfather." He lifted the edge of the paper, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger, frowning.

"Something wrong, Artie?"

"Well," he replied, shaking his head, "there's something… different about this paper. The ink too. It doesn't feel quite, I don't know, normal." He shook his head again. "I can't quite put my finger on what, Jim, but there's definitely something off about it." Turning to the girl, he said, "And you say you printed this? You know how to run a printing press, Abi?" He glanced at Jim, both of them thinking of the fact that Hansen was a counterfeiter in possession of a printing press. Perhaps, Artie thought with a sinking feeling, the child was a better actress than he had given her credit for; perhaps she had gulled him more than he knew.

For her part, Abi was sitting on the far sofa, knees drawn up, folded arms resting on them, chin propped on her arms, refusing to look at the men and remaining completely incommunicado.

Artie held the paper up to the light to check for the watermark, then flipped it over. There was more on the back. This was handwritten in pencil rather than printed. Across the top was the title GORDON. Below that were numerous interconnected horizontal brackets interspersed with vertical descenders.

"My family tree," Artie said, studying it, noting his own name filled in on the left-hand side. In fact, his was the only name filled in on that side. The other side, which was more complex, was also incomplete, having only five names actually filled in.

Starting at his own name, he traced up the brackets, through his father and grandfather, crossing over to the right-hand side, coming down to "Elias. And this mark next to him should be labeled Rufus." The bracket below Elias had room for seven descendants; only one was labeled. Tapping one of the others, Artie said, "And this one is Dale. Following down from Harper," which was the only name filled in for that generation, he reached a bracket for five descendants, none of them labeled. The second descendant here led down to the next bracket - room for four, again none labeled. The fourth carried on the descent to a bracket for two. The first here was labeled "Chas. Married Ellen." And the sole descendant below that was "Abi."

The girl spoke up then. "You see? I told you I was only partly lying about that. I **am **Elias's granddaughter. I just left out all the greats."

Starting at the girl's name, Artie went back up through the brackets, working out the real relationship. "Triple great," he said. "You're Elias's great-great-great-granddaughter."

"You understand what that's implying," put in Jim. Placing his thumb on Abi's name and his forefinger on Elias's, he said, "That many generations has to span well over a century of time. So how can she be here - now - and be who this paper claims she is?"

"Right," said Artie. "Either she's lying, or she traveled through time."

"And you and I know for a fact that time travel is possible," said Jim.

"What?" The girl's head came up off her arms. "You know it's possible? Are you saying that… that **you've **traveled through time?"

Artie shrugged modestly. "Once or twice."

For the first time since just before Jim arrived, a smile lit her face. Eagerly she asked them, "Do you know the Doctor then?"

Again she mentioned a doctor! "Doctor who?" said Jim. "Are you talking about Dr Loveless? You don't mean that Loveless is capable of time travel now, do you?"

"That would bode ill for the world," put in Artie.

"Dr Loveless," Abi repeated. "You mean that…" and she held her hand out at about four feet off the floor. Pulling some phrases from her memory, she said, "That brilliant, twisted little man. The evil mad genius. That little man with a giant rage against the world."

"Against the universe," Artie corrected.

"You know him, Abi," Jim stated.

"No, I've only heard of him," she replied. And to Artie she added, "He shows up in a lot of the stories. Somewhere around a dozen times."

"The stories your dad and grandpa told you, you mean?"

"Yes. Meaning Chas and William Mackenzie Gordon, not, uh, not Harper and Elias Gordon."

"Well, that makes more sense, at least. I had wondered how my exploits could have formed the bulk of your bedtime stories."

"Getting back to Dr Loveless," said Jim. "Where is he, Abi?"

"How should I know? He's not my Doctor. My Doctor is taller than either of you. Skinny as a rail too. Now, mad - yeah, that fits him. And genius as well. But not evil. My Doctor's not evil."

"But who is he?" Jim persisted. "What's his name?"

"Like I already told Artemus, he didn't tell his name. He just said he was the Doctor. **The **Doctor."

"What, as if he were the only one?" said Jim with a snort. "Sounds like he could rival Loveless when it comes to arrogance."

"The definite article, you might say," quipped Artie.

"Oh, I like that!" said Abi. "I'll have to…"

"Shh!" Jim held up his hand for silence, then murmured, "You hear that, Artie?"

"I sure do. There's somebody outside talking…" He paused and listened some more. "And that was a whinny. Talking to a horse?"

"Mine is tied to the railing of the rear platform."

"Ah," said Artie. Reaching over, he gave a tug on the cord he'd nearly pulled earlier. Immediately the bolts on the main door engaged, locking it firmly.

A silhouette appeared on the frosted glass of that door, a tall man with his forelock standing up. Without bothering to knock, the man outside rattled the doorknob. The door of course did not budge. A second later a bright blue light shown through the glazing, accompanied by an intense high-pitched whine.

The bolts slid back. The door opened.

"Not deadlocked then," said a cheerful voice with a British accent. And in stepped a tall lean man dressed in brown - dark brown pinstriped suit under a huge light brown overcoat. Loud tie, somewhat askew. Wild brown hair, very much askew. Bright red shoes of some unfamiliar design - made of canvas, perhaps?

He strode in talking, and his mouth just never quit. "Hullo, then. What a lovely day! Don't mind me; just looking for Abi. And what a beautiful varnish car you have! Those revolvers there - they don't really fire, do they?" and he pointed to a brace of ivory-handled hand guns mounted on a rectangular base at the corner of the desk. "Ah, there you are, Abi," he continued, not waiting for an answer. "I see you found your uncle or cousin or whatever he is. And a good day to you, sir, lovely meeting you!" He was now in front of Artemus, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "I can certainly see the family resemblance. Such brilliant brown eyes! Rather partial to brown eyes myself," and he waggled his eyebrows, calling attention to the deep shade of his own eyes. "Or at least currently. Not to be disparaging however," and now he was shaking West's hand warmly, "to any non-brown-eyed people in the room, of course."

Reaching inside his jacket, the man produced a small ID wallet, saying, "I'm the Doctor. Dr John Smith, young Abi's physics tutor…" He flipped open the wallet, displaying the small white rectangle of paper within. "…as you can see. And I must say," he went on, flipping the wallet closed again, "what a brilliant student she is! Quite beyond the typical physics student of this day and age…"

Artie had put out his hand, trying to examine the alleged ID. As the Doctor was speaking the words "Quite beyond," Artemus stepped all over his line with, "I'd like another look at that, please."

"Hmm? What? Oh! Oh, yes. Yes of course," the Doctor responded, handing over the wallet. "You'll find it quite in order, naturally. Dr John Smith, tutor of physics. Physics, physics, physics!" He continued on gabbling while Artie studied the white paper.

Indeed, at first it did seem to have on it the very words the Doctor claimed. Blocking out the skinny fellow's inane chatter, the trained Secret Service agent took a closer look. Then he nudged Jim and passed the wallet to him.

"Blank," said West.

"Completely blank," Gordon agreed.

The Doctor, who had been keeping up his continuous flow of words all the while that the paper was being inspected, nattered on for a couple more sentences before what the two men had said suddenly registered on him. "Blank!" he exclaimed. "What, blank?" He took back the ID and looked at it for himself. "Well, what do you know - blank! Imagine that!" And he tossed the wallet away over his shoulder.

Clapping his hands together, he turned his back to the agents, saying, "Abi my dear, are you ready to go now? Oh, but I can see," and here, in stalking back across the room he bent and scooped up the ID wallet and tucked it away again in his jacket, all without breaking stride, "that you are **not**, because those shoes - those precious, ridiculous cowboy boots you absolutely had to wear - are over here at this chair along with your hat." On the word "hat," with a flick of his wrist, the Doctor skimmed the hat through the air to her, landing it neatly in her lap. Grabbing up the boots, he added, "Found they were rubbish, did you?" as he stuffed the pair of them, together, into an outside pocket of his overcoat. "Which is why I brought you the trainers I recommended." And from the very same pocket, also together, he produced a pair of shoes much like the ones he was wearing, only somewhat smaller and bright purple. "Here's one… and the other…" He tossed them to her, one at a time, something like a juggler tossing Indian clubs to a partner. "Now if you'll just get those on, Abi, we'll be out of the nice gentlemen's hair. Very attractive hair too, I might add."

Spotting something interesting near the mounted guns on the desk, he exclaimed, "How brilliant!" and popped open the false set of books, exposing the telegraphic key hidden within. "Working?" he added, giving it a few experimental taps.

"Get away from that!"

"Oops!" grinned the Doctor, eyes gleaming. "Wonder what I said?" Turning to the fireplace, he said, "But this! I love this!" Unerringly he found the latch that caused the fireplace to swing out. "An escape hatch through the fireplace!" he said admiringly. "You know, I once met the most charming lady through a fireplace. Well, she was a little girl when I first spotted her. Reinette, they called her. Isn't that delightful? Means 'little queen.' " Eyes far away in reminiscence, he added, "She turned out brilliant…"

"Reinette?" said Artie. "Are you referring to Madame de Pompadour?"

"The very one! Ever meet her? Oh, but of course not. The dates are all wrong." Fading off into nostalgia once more, he added, "What a pity the clockwork men were determined to steal her brain… Still, it all worked in the end. Well… sort of…"

Spotting Abi hopping up off the sofa, he continued with, "Ready now, my dear? Say 'Good-bye' to the nice gentlemen then."

"Good-bye."

With a low bow to the agents, the Doctor said, declaiming:  
"And whether we shall meet again I know not.  
Therefore our everlasting farewell take:  
For ever, and for ever, farewell."

And turning to Abi, he took her hand with a cry of "_Allons-y!_" and whirled her out the door.


	5. The Gunman

**The Gunman**

And, lo, there was silence. Artie turned to Jim and said, "Do you get the feeling we were just visited by a tornado?"

"I get the feeling we shouldn't let that pair out of our sight."

"Amen to that."

They headed for the door, Artie grabbing his hat and jacket on the way. Once there, they found the bolts on the door were engaged again, so that one of them had to double back and pull the lever once more. Coming outside, they stood on the rear platform for a moment, watching the Doctor and Abi walking away into the middle distance as the two headed off eastward into roughly the same direction in which Hansen's shack lay.

Indicating the high rocks north of the strange pair's route, Jim said, "I'll ride that way and find some path through to cut them off. You follow them on foot."

"All they'll need to do is turn around and they'll see me; there's not so much as a square inch of cover."

"True. But if they see you, I'm sure you'll come up with some plausible excuse for following them, Artie. You're good at that." Swinging into the saddle of his horse, West rode off taking the course he had set for himself, while Gordon started off trailing after the Doctor and the girl.

Meanwhile, the conversation between the Doctor and the girl ran thusly:

"Well, Abi? How did it go?"

With an enchanted smile, she answered, "Artemus is wonderful!"

Giving his companion a sidelong look, the Doctor said, "Ah! And is that why you ignored me for such a long time? You and wonderful Artemus were having an extended snogging session, perhaps?"

"It wasn't extended!" she said fervently. "He… he kissed my hand. And the top of my head. And…" Leaving out the way she had attacked wonderful Artemus, she added, "And there was a real kiss at last. But he only did that to distract me so he could pick my pocket."

"Pick your pocket! Why would he do that?"

"Because my phone was in my pocket. And it kept beeping," she said pointedly.

"Really? Imagine that! I wonder why?"

"Well, it wasn't that easy for me to find the privacy to text you back! Not without Artemus catching me at it."

"Ah. I suppose not. Still you did manage it at last." With a smile, he asked, "So did you enjoy your trip? Your fan girl special to meet your bishie?"

She swatted his arm. She may have admitted it to Artemus, but she was not about to admit it to the Doctor! "I am not a fan girl," she insisted, "and he is not my bishie!"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Actually, that is true. 'Bishie' is short for 'bishōnen' which means 'beautiful young boy.' If anything, your beloved Artemus would be a 'bichūnen' - meaning a 'beautiful middle-aged man.' And I suppose the short form of that would be…"

"Oh ha ha ha, very funny," she interrupted grouchily.

He grinned. "Well, _**I **_thought so." Then, with another of his sidelong looks, he said, "But, Abi, do you really expect me to believe you're not an Artemus Gordon fan girl?"

"Uh…" she said, "I, I guess maybe I am his fan girl. A little."

The Doctor snerked. "Oh, a little!"

The terrain they were walking through was changing. No longer was it the smooth flatland that had surrounded the Wanderer. Now high rocks were closing in on them from the north, though to the south the lone and level sands still stretched far away.

"Well," said the Doctor, "for a companion of mine to wander off on her own and trouble **not **follow is quite an accomplishment, Abi. Congratulations."

She looked away.

"I say - trouble hasn't followed. Has it, Abi?"

Silence.

"Abi?"

"Well…"

The Doctor stopped walking, forcing her to stop as well. "Abi, what happened?" he asked sternly.

"Oh, it just that… it didn't quite go the way the book said it did."

He fixed her with a gimlet eye. "Not quite? As in?"

She hemmed and hawed a bit more, then came out with, "Ok, the reason Jim and Artemus were here, according to the book, was to arrest this dude Hansen. He was part of a counterfeiting ring that Our Heroes had been after for some time. And Hansen was definitely **not **the brains of the organization! More like the muscle. But when Jim and Artemus caught up with the ring in Denver and arrested all the others - Hansen got away and made off with the printing plates too. So they tracked him down and caught up with him here."

"Yes, yes, yes. You described most of that already when I was working out the coordinates of where and when to bring you. But what happened?"

"Well, what was supposed to happen was this: the pair of them sneaks up on the shack with Hansen in it, then Artemus lobs in a smoke bomb, flushing Hansen out into the open. Quick fight, Jim subdues the Bad Guy and takes him away under arrest, and then Artemus would get the printing plates and destroy the counterfeit money. Well, actually he was going to burn the phony money, but the little house was dry as kindling, so that he accidentally burned the place down entirely. Meanwhile, as Jim was setting out to lead Hansen away, the man somehow broke loose from him and tried to climb the high rocks to make his escape, only to, well, lose his grip and fall to his death."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "I see. And just how did you expect to fit yourself into that story, Abi?"

"Well… My plan in asking you to bring me here and now was to watch the whole thing, then show up and 'happen' to meet Artemus after he left the house. Kinda pull a damsel-in-distress thing, claiming I'd lost my horse, something like that?"

The Doctor leveled a look at her.

"Ok, so it was a dumb plan! And anyway, I didn't even get to use it. Because the first thing I did as soon as I found Hansen's shack was try to hide behind some rocks. And I nearly blundered right into a rattlesnake nest. Which led to Artemus shooting one of the snakes to keep me from getting bit. Which alerted Hansen so that he wound up, uh… getting away. Jim West went after him, but apparently he's still at large."

The Doctor stared at her. "You've changed the timeline," he said, his voice ominous.

She dropped her head and nodded wretchedly.

"Well," he added after some consideration. "I don't believe you've meddled with any fixed points in time. It should be all right. Time has a way of restoring itself. But let that be a lesson to you for next time: No going off without me!" And he started off strolling along once more.

Her eyes lit. Next time?

"Not that there will be a next time, mind you," he added. "As I said, one trip, off you go home, and this was it."

"It sure was." She sighed. "The part about being with Artemus was wonderful - mostly. But I ruined their stakeout and made them both suspicious of me - do you know, they thought I was maybe working with Hansen? Or worse, with someone like Dr Loveless! I also got caught with the cell phone **and **let them get hold of the family tree I drew up to show you, so that they figured out exactly who I am and concluded that I was either a liar or a time traveler. Oh!" Looking up at the Doctor, she added, "I nearly forgot. They said **they've **time-traveled. But they'd never heard of you."

His eyebrows shot up. "They have? Well, it wasn't with me. Well, unless they're in my future. No, but they'd still recognize me. Unless I had regenerated. Oh, but they would still remember the name the Doctor, surely?" He sighed. "Oh, Abi, this is going to nettle me until I learn with whom they've been travelling!" He stopped walking again. "We'll just have to ask your cousin about it."

"You mean we're going back?"

He grinned at her. "No need to. Didn't you notice? Wonderful Artemus has been trailing us, just out of earshot, practically since we set foot off the train!"

"He has?" She turned to look, but didn't see anyone and said so.

"He hid himself behind that little shack there," the Doctor explained. Abi glanced at the shack - Hansen's, of course - before turning back to face the Doctor again. Suddenly her eyes went wide, then filled with horror.

Ah, he thought. There's something behind me, isn't there? He turned to look.

Indeed there was something behind him: a man holding a gun. He was scraggly and grimy, thoroughly a man of this time and place. He made a small gesture with the gun, and both Abi and the Doctor put their hands up.

"What are we going to do now?" whispered Abi.

"For the time being," the Doctor replied, "whatever the man with the gun tells us to do." Then, louder, he asked, "Abi, my dear, have you ever seen this gunman before?"

"No."

"Sorry? Didn't hear you?"

Puzzled, for surely he must have heard her - he was standing right next to her - she repeated it a bit more loudly. "No!"

"Ah, but in your account of the proceedings earlier," he went on, still talking loudly, "you never indicated whether you actually saw the man Mr West and Mr Gordon were attempting to arrest. Did you see him, Abi?"

"No, Doctor. Come to think of it, I didn't. I had my head down the whole time the shooting was going on."

"Wise move," the Doctor continued. "However, given the extreme loneliness of this area, I would say that it's a fairly safe assumption to deduce that this man - the one holding a gun on us - is almost certainly the same man _Messieurs _West and Gordon have been trying to apprehend."

"Shut up!" said the gunman.

"Shutting up," the Doctor said pleasantly. After all, he was reasonably sure that he had been heard, and that his words were having the desired effect.

"Who are you?" the gunman said suspiciously. "You workin' for them danged Federal agents?"

Abi opened her mouth, but the Doctor's voice overrode hers. "You don't know who we are?"

"Ain't never seen neither the one of you before in all my born days!" growled the gunman. "Now, who are you?"

Cheerfully, the Doctor replied, "The Doctor and Abi," and fell silent.

Into that silence came the unmistakable sound of a revolver being cocked, followed by a voice ordering, "Drop the gun, Hansen!"

"Artemus!" Abi breathed.

The Doctor smiled. Ah yes, the desired effect indeed!

The gunman's eyes were darting everywhere, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. Taking advantage of their captor's distraction, the Doctor discretely brought out his sonic screwdriver and whispered to Abi, "When I say 'Run'…" cutting his eyes back in the direction from which they had just come.

She nodded.

"West?" the gunman hollered. "Gordon? I got hostages!"

"Don't be a fool, Hansen!" called Gordon. "Counterfeiting's going to land you in prison. But if you start shooting people, you'll hang!"

"I ain't goin' to no prison!" Hansen declared. "Now, throw out your gun, lawman, or else the girl gets it!" He snaked out a hand, making a grab for Abi, but the Doctor was suddenly in his way. "Really, Mr Hansen, that's no way to act! Does your mother know that you're the sort of man that people are afraid to **run **into in dark alleyways?"

Nothing happened.

Raising his voice a bit, the Doctor added, "In fact, I'm not particularly happy to have RUN into you out here in the desert."

Still nothing. Eyes blazing, the Doctor turned around to glare at Abi, and silently and distinctly mouthed at her the word: Run!

Oh, right! Abi suddenly pelted off, not exactly in the direction they had come from, but instead heading for shelter behind the little shack. Hansen bellowed for her to stop and tried to draw a bead on her, but the Doctor repeatedly jumped in front of the gun, spoiling Hansen's aim.

And not just his. Gordon, who was watching the scene from inside the shack, while impressed with the Doctor's brash bravery, was finding it impossible to get a clear shot at the gunman. "Can't you hold still for a moment, Doctor?" he grumbled under his breath.

Abi, glad now to be wearing the trainers, ran, her heart in her throat till she could disappear round the corner of the shack and out of Hansen's line of sight. She leaned back against the wall for a second, breathing hard. Then, remembering what the Doctor had said about her cousin, softly she called out, "Artemus?"

Just as softly, his voice answered, "In here."

Well, she reasoned, there had to be a door around back, didn't there, or else how had Hansen rigged up the decoy wagon? So she slipped round the next corner as well. Sure enough, there was a back door. She turned the knob and let herself in.

It was a mess. Cobwebs were everywhere, dust almost everywhere. About the only somewhat clean thing in the single-room shack was the printing press and its associated stack of blank paper. Artemus was crouching by a window watching what was going on outside, the shabby mattress from the small bed in the corner propped up in front of him as a woefully scanty bulwark against bullets.

"There you are!" said the girl.

Artie spared her a brief glance and put a finger to his lips, then waved a hand at her, insisting she get down low.

There wasn't much in the shack to use for cover besides the printing press itself. Abi knelt behind it, then whispered, "Is the Doctor all right?" She was hoping that he was; there hadn't been any gunfire. Yet.

"He is so far," Artie confirmed to her sotto voce. He went back to watching and listening, finding it hard not to grin as the voluble Doctor effortlessly talked rings round Hansen.

A high-pitched whine both he and Abi had heard before burst on their ears all of a sudden. When at last it stopped, Abi hissed, "That's the sonic screwdriver! What's the Doctor doing?"

Artie turned a momentary look her way that said, very plainly: You expect me to know?

Abi was getting antsy. From where she was, she could hear the Doctor's voice but not make out all his words. "What's he doing?" she hissed again.

And Artie again gestured for silence. Then he started and said, "Can he do that?"

"Can he do what?"

Artie made a decision. "Look. Get over here." He didn't have to invite her twice. Immediately she rushed over and crouched behind the mattress at his side. "Now remember," he whispered to her, "keep your head and your voice down. I don't think Hansen realizes this is where I am, and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible. And if any shooting starts, get back where you were right away. Ok?"

She nodded. Sneaking a glance out the window, she saw the Doctor, hands in his pockets, whistling as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Meanwhile Hansen, his revolver broken open, was frantically trying to shake the bullets out of it.

Unable to make head or tail out of what she was seeing, Abi asked, "How much did I miss?"

"Quite a lot, actually," Artie replied. Eyes on the scene before them, he leaned close to her ear and brought her up to speed.

And what had the Doctor been doing? As soon as Abi ran out of sight, he had relaxed. "Much better!" he said. "I've lost too many companions lately, one way or another. I don't intend Abi to be one of them." Turning to the gunman, he said, "Seems you've mislaid your hostage, Mr Hansen."

"I still got you," said Hansen, leveling the gun at him.

"True. But you don't dare shoot me."

The gunman snorted. "Yeah? Why not?"

The Doctor grinned. "Why, for one thing, if you shoot me, you'll have no hostages left and will be completely out of bargaining chips. And no doubt at that point, Mr Gordon will simply shoot you, culminating in an outcome I'm sure you'd prefer to avoid. And I might add it does not speak well for your intellect that I'm having to explain all this to you."

Hansen scowled. "You sayin' I'm stupid?"

"What? No, of course not! I'm saying that… that… Well… no, that's right. I **am **saying you're stupid."

"I oughta…!" the gunman growled.

"What, shoot me? When I just delineated to you the first reason why you cannot shoot me? And you've not heard the second reason yet."

Suspicious, Hansen asked, "What's the second reason?"

Eyes shining, the Doctor said, "This!" He had been palming the sonic screwdriver for several minutes now. Swinging it up and pointing it at the gunman, he thumbed the switch.

"My eyes!" howled Hansen as the intense blue light shone directly into them. The whine of the device assaulted his ears as well. Suddenly the light was no longer in his eyes - although the afterimage was. The whine continued still. And then he dropped his gun; the metal of it had become far too hot to hold. "What'd you do?" he bellowed.

The Doctor turned off the sonic screwdriver and tucked it away. "Oh, merely insured that you'll never be firing **that **gun again."

Blinking heavily, Hansen leaned down and pawed around on the ground till he found his gun again. Picking it up - it was no longer too hot to handle - he tried to focus on it, to check it for damage. "What'd you do to it?"

Smiling maniacally, the Doctor said, "Why, I fused each of your bullets to the interior of its chamber! You'll never get them out. And should you fire the gun, as the bullet will **not **be advancing down the barrel… Well, all those expanding hot gases have to go somewhere. And that somewhere will be out the **back **of the gun, toward your hand and body. Backfiring, I believe that's called?"

Hansen looked back and forth between the weapon and the Doctor. "I don't believe you," he said.

The Doctor shrugged. "You don't have to believe me," he said. "Fire the gun."

Hansen eyeballed the Doctor for a long time. Breaking open the revolver, he upended it over his palm to drop the bullets out.

Not one of them fell out.

He shook harder, cussing. Nothing happened.

Hands in his pockets, whistling a cheerful tune, the Doctor rocked back and forth on his heels, enjoying Hansen's discomfiture.

High above in the rocks where he and Artie had traded fire with Hansen earlier in the day, Jim West had been watching and listening to the exchange between the gunman and the Doctor, having arrived just in time to hear Artie warn Hansen, "You'll hang!" He now decided it was time to make his own presence known. Leveling his rifle at the gunman, West called out, "It's over, Hansen. Come along quietly!"

The Doctor and Hansen in the open, as well as Artie and the girl in the shack, looked up at the sound of Jim's voice. "Why hullo, Mr West!" the Doctor exclaimed jauntily.

As for Hansen, disgusted with the whole situation, he unleashed a fresh stream of blasphemy and hurled his ruined weapon away from him as far out across the desert sands as he could.

The voice from above called, "Artie?"

"Right here, Jim!" Carefully uncocking his gun, Artie holstered it, said to Abi, "Let's go," and held out a hand politely to help her to her feet. "By the way," he added as he escorted her to the door, "I believe you now."

"You do?" she said, her eyes lighting up. "But what brought that about?"

"Hansen," he replied. "Jim and I thought that you and the Doctor were very likely working with Hansen. But from the way the man reacted to the pair of you, it's pretty obvious that he didn't know you two from Adam. And Eve," he added teasingly. "Besides, there's also the Doctor's… what did you call it?" He gave a whistle, imitating its whine.

"The sonic screwdriver."

"Which apparently does so much more than merely drive screws! With a gadget like that, he certainly gives the impression of being a man out of the future. And so - I believe you, _ma chère cousine _of a century hence. Will you forgive me for misjudging you?"

"I suppose," she said. And with a gleam in her eye, she added, "Does that mean we get to kiss and make up?"

Artie snorted. "And you called me a flirt!"

"I guess I just keep learning from you," she responded with a bob of her eyebrows.

"Come on, you rascal. Jim's waiting."

Artie opened the front door of the shack and he and Abi came out. Dropping the girl off with the Doctor, Gordon produced a pair of handcuffs, informed Hansen, "You're under arrest," then pulled the man's hands behind his back and cuffed him. Looking up to the high ground where James West was standing with his rifle in hand, Gordon called up, "All right, Jim!"

And now something new was added, for the ground began to shake.

West instantly dropped to a crouch, bringing his center of gravity closer to the ground. Gordon braced himself, still looking up, watching out for the possibility of falling rocks. Hansen, with his hands cuffed behind him, quickly lost his balance and fell.

Abi went ashen, looked up into the Doctor's face, and whispered, "No. No no no no no. Not again?"

And the Doctor, looking out across the desert, replied, "Oh yes, Abi. Again."

She spun and looked for herself. In fact, each of the five was looking in that direction now. And Jim, being on the high ground, has the best view of what was happening.

Beginning at the epicenter of where Hansen's gun had struck the ground, a hole had opened up, making a crater that was steadily eating its way larger. And up out of that crater…

"No," said Artie. "Oh, you are kidding me!" He looked at Abi. "That's… that's the same thing that…"

Helplessly, Abi nodded.

There was no other word for it; it was a tentacle. Long, snake-like, pinkish-orange, writhing up out of the still-widening pit. Ten feet long… twenty… thirty… And the one tentacle was soon joined by another. Three more. Five more. Ten more, the squirming tentacles all ranged around a snapping slavering central mouth.

"That's what you described to me!" said Gordon. "It's… it's… What would you call it? Some sort of… land squid?"

"As good a name as any," said the Doctor.

"But," said Abi, "we killed it! Why is there another one?"

"We killed the one in your backyard, yes," the Doctor agreed. "But that's a long way from here, both in distance and time. And I'm wondering the same thing you are, Abi: how is it we've encountered a second one so quickly after the first?"

There came a rifle shot. Cupping his hands to his mouth, the Doctor called up, "Mr West, I strongly recommend you not do that again!"

Only a moment later, Gordon exclaimed, "Jim! Look!"

Everyone looked. The bullet had hit one of the tentacles, making an impact mark that, at this distance, resembled a small dimple. Out of that dimple something was now pushing forth… elongating… becoming…

"A new tentacle!"

Pointing eastward, the Doctor called up again, "Mr West, in that direction you will find something that certainly does not belong here in the middle of this American desert. Meet us there." Then, to the rest, "Abi. Mr Gordon. Mr Hansen. Run!"

The Doctor took off following his own advice, his overcoat flapping behind him, Abi right on his heels. Gordon hesitated, decided the Doctor was right, and went to pull his prisoner to his feet. In a panicking voice, Hansen yelled, "How'm I supposed to run with my hands cuffed behind me?"

Gordon sighed and reached into his pocket for the key, intending to release one of Hansen's hands, then refasten that handcuff to his own wrist so the man couldn't get away. Before he could carry out his plan however, the whine of the sonic screwdriver split the air - and the entire set of handcuffs fell to the ground. With a mad grin, Hansen swung a fist, socking Gordon on the chin hard enough to send him to the ground. Hooting with laughter, Hansen then turned and ran, heading not east but west.

"Artemus!" Abi cried and ran back to his side to try to help him up, the Doctor trailing after her. Angrily, Gordon growled at the tall skinny fellow, "What'd you go and do a fool thing like that for?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Sorry."

Meanwhile, as soon as Hansen belted Gordon and scampered, West flung the rifle to his shoulder and shouted, "Stop right there!" Hansen ignored the order and kept going. Jim took careful aim, leading the escaping prisoner, not wanting the man to get out of sight round the rocks. He started to squeeze off a shot.

But West was not the only one targeting Hansen. One of the tentacles of that monstrous thing whipped up and out.

"Abi!" shouted the Doctor. "Don't look!"

Of course she looked. A split second later, realizing what was coming, she slammed her eyes shut and buried her face in the nearest chest, which happened to be Gordon's.

Gordon, having heard Abi's story, knew what was coming as well, but West didn't. Both men watched in shock as the tentacle wrapped up Hansen and bore the man, screaming, up into the air. High, high, high up the tentacle carried him, then lined him up over that yearning central mouth - and dropped him.

The scream cut off abruptly. Seconds later there was a whuff as something was blown back out from the mouth and floated gently down to earth.

Abi, her face still turned away, whispered, "Was it… was it like my dog?"

"Yes, Abi," the Doctor replied softly.

West and Gordon exchanged glances across the vertical distance separating them. And then, without any more prompting, all four ran.


	6. The TARDIS

**The TARDIS**

The Doctor was in the lead, Abi behind him, Gordon bringing up the rear. West had darted for his horse and was riding along the high ground above the rest, just north of them. And now the Doctor angled a bit to the northeast into a twisting passage with tall rocks to both the left and right. For West, this was somewhat familiar territory; somewhere along here was the spot where he and Hansen had tangled earlier, the spot where he had come to, wondering how his pallet had been spread under him.

As for Gordon, he was just hoping this wouldn't turn out to be a box canyon with the only way back out the way they'd come in, the solitary entrance guarded by that land squid. Still running, Artie turned one last corner and saw with a sinking heart that in fact, it was a box canyon, although he spotted what might be a steep and tricky path out in the northern wall.

It was what he saw ahead of him, the strange object toward which both the Doctor and Abi were running full speed, that slowed his own steps. What on earth? he thought. Where had **that **come from? The Doctor had called out to Jim to meet them at something that clearly didn't belong here in the desert. Obviously this was what the Doctor had been referring to.

It was a large blue box, maybe ten feet tall, roughly four feet wide and the same deep, square on its base. Its slightly pitched roof rose to a shallow peak with what looked like a lamp at its pinnacle. Just below the roof ran the legend: POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX.

The Doctor had reached the blue box now and was busy at the door, apparently unlocking it. He then pushed open the right-hand door which neatly bisected the front of the box. The Doctor's lean frame was silhouetted in the door for a moment before he disappeared inside.

Now Abi reached the box as well and also went inside. And while Artie continued on toward the curious cabinet, going slower and slower the closer he got, the Doctor held a hurried conference with his companion.

"Well, Abi, it seems that instead of taking you straight home, we'll be staying on a bit longer."

"We will?"

"Yes. We were able to kill the previous, er, land squid because I happened to have on hand the device I used to disrupt it into its component cells. I only had one such device however. To get rid of this second creature, I'll need to build a completely new Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor."

"A new what?"

"Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor."

She gave a whistle. "I'm impressed! I didn't think it would have the same name twice. You mean a new fiendish thingy?"

"No, I mean a new Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversi…"

"Fiendish thingy, right. Oh!" She brightened perceptibly now. "And how long is that going to take?"

"Long enough," he replied. "Already planning on yet more snogging fests with wonderful Artemus?"

She blushed.

The Doctor took her hand suddenly, causing her to glance up at him in surprise. "Oh, Abi!" he said, "I know what it is to love someone, and feel that the sun rises and sets in that person. But I also know what it is to be separated from that person forever." He held her eyes for a long moment. "Abi, you are not going to be able to stay here with him. You know that."

"Yes, Doctor. Of course not."

"And you still will need to be careful what you say in front of your cousin and his partner so that you don't give them any hints about their futures. No spoilers!"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Now the rest of the promise I had you make earlier I release you from. They're about to enter the TARDIS, so most of that will be moot once they're inside anyway. But remember: you're promising me you won't give either of them any spoilers about their own personal futures! You understand? Either one of them is perfectly capable of taking any tidbit of information you might let fall and use it to work out far more than you might think they would – particularly when they put their heads together. So – promise?"

"Yes, Doctor, I promise."

"In a full sentence, please."

"I promise not to say anything to Artemus or to Jim West that might be a hint about their futures."

"Good. I'll hold you to that. Now, while I try to scare up the parts I'll need for the new Nano, er… fiendish thingy, you go assure wonderful Artemus that there's room enough in here for three."

"Yes, Doctor." She crossed to the door and leaned out. "Artemus!"

Artie had slowed from a lope to a slow stroll, still wondering how that glorified closet had come to be here. And did Abi really expect him to cram inside it along with her and the Doctor? And what about Jim? He had a horse with him! What was all of this, anyway?

Abi was waiting in the doorway for him. "Come on, Artemus!" she called again. Eyes dancing, she added, "You're going to love this!"

Puzzled, he stopped just short of the door. "Love what?" he asked. "Squeezing into a tiny room with you, you little flirt?"

She laughed and grabbed his hand, and with a surprisingly strong yank, pulled him inside the box.

Artemus Gordon's jaw dropped, his eyes wide as he found himself trying to somehow stare at everything all at once. A vast room opened all around him, the ceiling high above his head, the walls spread wide. Ropes or perhaps tubes looped down from that ceiling in happy confusion. Some sort of round things - lights? - inside hexagonal depressions studded the walls at intervals, giving the place a vaguely honeycomb-like appearance, while the support pillars bore a very strong resemblance to coral. A ramp led up from the doorway to a dais with a roundish six-sided central - well, console was the only word that came to mind for it. A glowing column rose from the center of the console. Strange things haphazardly attached adorned the top and sides of the console, including a variety of levers, a couple of dangling mallets, more tubes, and a great number of other things this man of the nineteenth century had no reference from which to recognize. To one side stood a couple of oddly made chairs, the Doctor's overcoat flung casually over them.

Turning himself in a complete circle, Artie breathed out, "It's bigger…"

"…on the inside," the Doctor's voice finished with him. Grinning, the skinny man in the trainers added, "I love when people say that!" Grasping his latest guest's hand, the Doctor shook it, saying, "Mr Gordon, welcome aboard the TARDIS."

"TAR… uh… TARDIS?" Artie echoed.

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space," the Doctor expanded the acronym. "In other words, my time machine."

Artemus looked at Abi, who was plainly enjoying the wonderment on his face almost as much as the Doctor was. Pointing at the girl, Artie exclaimed, "TARDIS! Not Tortoise, TARDIS! **That's **what you said. No wonder you grinned so much - even laughed - when I guessed so confidently that you'd come here on a private train named the Tortoise." Looking all around again, he said, "This is amazing!"

"Isn't it though?" the Doctor agreed, adding, "But you've obviously never seen the inside of a TARDIS before."

"No," said Artie. "Should I have?"

"Abi tells me that you and Mr West have done a bit of time-travelling yourselves."

"Well, yes, that's true. But I don't remember a machine. There was a room filled with mist…" He smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but to tell you the truth, I don't remember much of what happened at all. But then, for a good portion of that adventure, I wasn't myself. And for a small part of it, I was dead."

The Doctor and Abi stared at each other for a moment, then both turned and stared at Artemus.

"Don't ask me," he said. "I never understood it. Vautrain explained about a warp in the fabric of space, and somehow using that as a break through which to enter and voyage through time?'

The Doctor nodded. "Go on."

"He also talked about faith and a concept called, ah, _tanasukh?_"

"All right."

"Vautrain, you see, had been a Confederate colonel during the War, and had lost both legs at Vicksburg. Jim was Union, of course. He happened to find the injured Vautrain and applied tourniquets which saved the man's life. But Vautrain came to hate Jim for saving him, since he considered his wheeled chair to be his prison." Artie shook his head. "Somewhere between his loss of physical abilities and rank madness, Vautrain began to cultivate his mental abilities. The man caused a bronze bust to vanish - simply vanish! - right before our eyes. And according to Jim, Vautrain made me vanish in front of his eyes - but I'm a bit fuzzy on that part."

"I thought I knew all your stories, Artemus," said Abi. "I've never heard this one."

"No reason you should have. This is one of the stories we finally decided not to talk about. Although I will admit that Jim came to that conclusion a bit earlier than I did."

Abi was laughing. "And here I thought you'd have trouble believing my story!"

"But why did Vautrain take you two gentlemen time-travelling? What was his aim?" asked the Doctor.

"He took us back in time to Vicksburg again, thinking he could regain his legs, kill General Grant, and change the outcome of the War, all in one blow." Artie fell silent, his eyes somber at the memory.

"Did any of that work out?" said the Doctor, also somber.

"No. If it had, I likely wouldn't be here."

Staring off at nothing, the Doctor murmured, "Curious fellow, this Vautrain. I wonder…" Glancing at Artemus, he said, "I don't suppose you noticed if Vautrain had a fob watch?"

"A watch?" Pausing to think, Artie finally shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice one, but that doesn't necessarily mean he didn't have one. You know, you'd do better to ask Jim; he spent a lot more time with Vautrain than I did."

"Or I could simply go talk to Vautrain himself."

Artie shot him a look. "That won't be easy. After he took us back in time to the Battle of Vicksburg, the man wound up dying there. Jim and I just barely got back ourselves."

Throwing his head back, the Doctor said, "The surrender of Vicksburg came on… ah, 4 July 1863, did it not? After I take Abi home, I could drop in and have a look."

Artie blinked and looked around himself again. "Oh right, I'm standing in a time machine. Well, in that case, the place you want to find is called Live Oak Manor."

"Thank you, Mr Gordon. Now, let's see… I believe our Mr West should be…" Turning to the console, the Doctor flicked a switch, punched some buttons, then reached up to adjust a slim flat-faced box hanging at eye level. "Ah, and here he comes." He slid the box to one side so Mr Gordon could have a look as well.

"What is this?" Artie asked, amazed at the sight on the face of the box of Jim leading his black horse down the path in the north wall of the canyon. Inspecting the back of the device, then its front again, Artie observed, "It's like looking out a window, and yet this gadget isn't part of any wall. What is it, some sort of… remote window?"

"Monitor," replied the Doctor. "Abi m'dear, go open the door for Mr West. And Mr Gordon, perhaps you should go with her. I believe Mr West will be more likely to trust your assurances rather than hers."

Meanwhile, Jim, after making note of the canyon his partner and the others were running into, had decided to spend a little time with a spyglass examining the tentacled monster from afar. It didn't seem to him that the creature was mobile, nor did it seem to be growing any larger now. The Doctor and the girl had said they'd killed one of these things already, thought Jim, curious to know how.

Finishing his reconnaissance, Jim took some time skirting the edge of the box canyon, looking for a way in that didn't involve getting his fractious mount anywhere near the thing Artie had dubbed a land squid. Finally finding a way down, Jim had to dismount and lead the horse along the steep and narrow path. He had no doubt that this was the right place; surely that strange blue box was what the Doctor had been referring to as something that didn't belong out here in the desert. And it hadn't been here at all when Jim had first scouted the area a few hours earlier.

As he reached the bottom of the path and remounted, Jim spotted the girl appearing from behind the box. She waved to him. Then Artie joined her and waved as well. And then…

"Hmm…" said Jim to himself. "I always did say that Artie was a man who wasted little time."

When Artie had followed Abi outside, a thought had struck him, and he decided to act on it. He waved to Jim, then from behind the girl he slipped his other arm round Abi's waist and whispered into her ear, "Unlimited embraces, isn't that what we agreed on?"

She stiffened - not unexpectedly. "But no teasing," she responded.

"Oh, absolutely. No teasing. I am definitely not teasing." And he nuzzled the side of her neck.

That did it. Just as he'd known she would, she spun to face him and looked up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "Artemus?" she said softly.

He gathered her close and kissed her. After allowing himself a few seconds to enjoy the experience, he slipped a hand into her pocket and liberated the contents once again. He glanced at what he'd taken to be certain that, this time, he had what he had expected to find, then brought the little device up alongside his face, gently ended the kiss, and called her name.

"Hmm?"

"I think you have something of a short memory, _chère cousine_." He waggled the gadget at her, and was surprised when, instead of being horrified and trying to snatch it back, she merely shrugged and laughed.

"Abi? Didn't you all but fight me to keep this from me on the Wanderer? I thought…"

"Oh, but it doesn't matter now! Before, I was trying to keep my promise. But now you've met the Doctor, and you've seen the TARDIS. The futuristic technology in my little cell phone is nothing compared to the TARDIS!"

"Oh! So… you don't mind if I keep this?"

"As long as I get it back before I have to leave." Then she gave him a sharp look. "You know, you assured me you weren't teasing, but I'm getting a little tired of you only kissing me to pick my pocket!"

"Then don't put interesting things in your pocket," he replied. He looked down into that cross young face, then relented and drew her close again to give her for once a nonfraudulent kiss. She responded with heart and soul, her arms stealing round his neck, her fingers twining into his hair…

"Busy, Artie?" came a very familiar voice.

"Mmm… huh?" Artie looked up to see that Jim had arrived and was dismounting. "Oh, uh, hi, Jim. Oh hey, James! You have got to see this! It's the most amazing thing! This box here? It's bi…"

WHAP! The girl threw her hand over Artie's mouth. Then she whispered in his ear.

He laughed. "No, you're right, Abi, he should see it for himself. James my boy…" And Artie made a grand gesture with his arm, inviting Jim to take a closer look.

Jim shot his partner a piercing look. "All right, Artie, what are you up to?"

"Up to?" Artie turned to his partner, his brown eyes wide and guileless, his face the very picture of complete innocence. "Me, up to something? But what would I be up to?"

"Uh-huh." Jim had seen that look on Artie's face many a time, and generally right afterwards, Jim would find salt in the sugar bowl, or his bed short-sheeted. There was a surprise, a big one, waiting for him somewhere. "And where has the Doctor gone?"

"Oh, he's inside," said Artie, indicating the box. "Just go on in."

"In this cupboard."

"Mm-hmm."

Now fully suspicious, Jim walked up to the tall blue box, opened the door, and stepped in. Then he stepped right back out again and walked completely around the box until he came back to where Artie and the girl were still standing together near the door. Now Jim went inside once more, strode up to the lanky fellow busily fiddling with the bizarre controls on the central console, and said, "All right, Doctor, how do you do this?"

"Transdimensional Engineering."

"I'm so glad I asked. Meaning?"

"Oh, it's basic Time Lord technology to be able to take a big box and stuff it inside a smaller one."

"Time Lord?" Jim frowned. "It's funny, but that phrase reminds me of a man I once knew named Vautrain."

"Ah yes, Mr Gordon was just telling me about that chap. I should like to have a nice sit-down with you at some point and hear the rest. Right at this moment, however, I, uh, need to find a few things, and... Ah… Abi!"

The girl appeared at the door. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Would you kindly escort Mr West to a room where he can stable his horse?"

She blinked at him. "Stable? There's a stable?"

"Not exactly, but it will do." The Doctor rattled off a dizzying sequence of directions to her, ending with, "And once you've done that, bring Mr West to the laboratory. I'll be there for some time to come, I'm afraid." He swept away from the console and started through the interior door.

"Ah, Doctor?"

The Doctor turned in the doorway. "Yes, Mr Gordon?"

"You have a lab in here? May I see it?"

"Oh, certainly, certainly. Come along. Oh and, Abi?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Be sure to shut the outside door once Mr West's horse is inside." So saying, he disappeared through the interior door, Artemus Gordon right behind him.

...

Abi opened both front doors wide, then stood well back as Jim led the big black stallion inside. As the Doctor had requested, she closed the doors again before hurrying across the room to repeat the performance at the interior door. Then she set off along the corridor, muttering the directions to herself.

They walked for some time, Abi stopping occasionally to run through the directions again. "Ok, I think we're almost there," she said at last. "Yeah, this is it." Glad to finally be there, she ignored the sound of warning that Jim was making and yanked open the door in front of her.

FLUMP _FLOP_ **_CRASH_ ****TINKLE ****_JINGLE_ **_KER-FLOOMP _BANGA POOoofff…..

All that was combined with a high-pitched screech. "Ew!" wailed Abi, "what was that?"

"The wrong door," suggested Jim. Between the two of them they scooped and shoved the scattered contents of the room back inside and Jim shouldered the door shut again.

"Great," said Abi disconsolately. "Now I've gotten us lost. Instead of the stable, I found Fibber McGee's closet. The Doctor's going to have to send out a rescue party for us."

"No, we're not lost," said Jim. And he calmly recited to her the entire set of directions. "See? Not lost at all. It's simply that instead of the door you just opened, we want that door." And he pointed to the next door down the hall.

"Oh!" Abi went over and opened the other door, and promptly gagged. "Ew! Oh yeah, this smells like a stable all right. And hey! There's already a horse in here! I didn't know the Doctor had a horse."

Jim had a look as well. The room was a perfectly acceptable stable with two stalls. It was well stocked with feed and water along with all the proper grooming tools and places for the tack, and a full set of tack was already put away, presumably the set that went with the chestnut gelding that stood in one of the stalls keeping a wary eye on the newcomers. Jim led his black to the other stall, then set about stripping the tack from his own horse and grooming it.

Abi watched, just as she had done earlier when Artie had tended to his horse back on the train. Every so often Jim asked her to fetch him one thing or another, so she did, though often she had no idea what he was asking for and got it wrong. She also was very careful to keep plenty of distance between herself and the two horses.

Noticing this, Jim said at length, "You're afraid of horses?"

"Well, more like I'm not used to them," she admitted. The girl pressed herself back against the door and nervously flicked her nose. "Are you nearly done?" she asked.

"You know, Blackjack's a very smart horse," Jim told her reassuringly. "He won't hurt you. Not unless you try to steal him, that is." He smiled. "Come over here and give him a pat on the nose."

"You're kidding me."

"No." He demonstrated, talking gently and soothingly to the big black, ending with, "So what do you think of Abi, hmm?"

The horse stretched out its neck toward the girl and nickered softly. She jumped and shot a look at Jim. "Go on; you can pet him," he encouraged.

Slowly Abi reached out her hand and touched the horse's nose. Her eyes went round. "It's so soft!" she exclaimed.

"Mm-hmm. Now I don't know about our other friend here, what kind of temperament he has…" Jim went and rummaged around until he found some treats for the horses: a couple of apples. He gave the black the first one, and soon had the chestnut eating from his hand as well. "Wonder who had you before, fella," said Jim gently. "Whoever it was, he didn't take very good care of you, did he?"

"What makes you say that?" Abi asked.

"Look here." He pointed at some wounds on the chestnut, poorly healed. "Any man who treats - or **mis**treats - his horse like this, I'd like to have a word with." He continued making friends with the chestnut, currying it, checking its hoofs. "So tell me, Abi," he said after a while, "what year do you come from?"

She paused just long enough to consider whether the truth would break her latest promise to the Doctor. "2012."

Jim looked at her. "Two thousand…" he echoed. "And is there something wrong with the men in 2012?"

"Huh? Why do you ask that?"

"Because, Miss Gordon, it strikes me as strange that a pretty young thing such as yourself should be obsessed with a man who is, after all," and he looked her straight in the eye, "a dead relative of yours."

"I…" She stared at him for a bit, then said, "What's wrong with the guys in my time… You really want me to answer that?"

"I don't know. Is the answer going to blister my ears off? Because you look like you might be getting angry enough to spit rocks. Oh, and please don't frighten the horses."

That made her laugh a little. "All right, I'll try not to. I… Ok, see… I'm a math geek."

"A geek? You bite the heads off chickens?"

"No no! I mean a… a nerd. A dweeb. A, well, a brain, ok? I like math; I like science. I also like reading and poetry - but not long walks on the beach."

"Sorry?"

"Never mind. Back when I was in college, and in high school before that, I always hung out with the brainy guys. And there were a few of them I really liked. And we would talk about science and math, black holes, astrophysics, what have you. We'd have these great conversations! But they never asked me out. There were some of them - I know this for a fact - who felt like asking me out would be like dating their kid sister. The others… the only thing I could figure was that they thought I was too pretty or something and would turn them down, so they didn't even try. So scratch the brainy guys!" She flung out her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"And then there's the, well, the non-brains. They at least will ask me out. But try to have a conversation! No concept of, oh, string theory, or mRNA, or even triangular numbers. Most of them just want to talk about their favorite sports teams. **Endlessly**. And once they realize there's a brain between my ears… oh, they dump me so fast it makes my head spin. In fact, there were even a few times where the guy dumped me right in the middle of the date. Yeah! Excused himself from the table for whatever reason, and there I sat, waiting for him to come back. Next thing I knew, I looked around and he was half-way across the restaurant chatting up some giggling air-head of the Beauty-times-Brains-equals-a-constant type. Really great for my self-esteem, huh?

"And then there's the date who thinks that flatulence is high comedy, and that the finest poetry ever written runs just five lines in length and has as its subject matter the adventures of some person who hails from Nantucket!" She shuddered.

"Oh, but even better than this - the epitome, the very king of Bad Dates, is the guy who is out somewhere with his date already, and as soon as her back is turned, he's hitting on me. And I point out to him, 'You've already got a date.' And he blows her off. 'Her? She's nothing. C'mon, baby, you and me.' Ew! Makes me want to deck a guy like that!"

"Ah," said Jim. "So why the obsession with Artie then?"

Now she smiled. She explained to him as briefly as possible about the bedtime stories, then added, "So according to the stories, he's a really brainy guy. But he also isn't afraid to ask out a pretty girl. Although, also according to the stories, he comes up with some of the most atrocious pick-up lines known to Mankind, or inflicted upon Womankind."

Jim smiled. "Yep. That's Artie." He put some things away, stroked both horses fondly, then said, "I'm done here." They went back out into the hall. "All right. Which way to the lab?" asked Jim.

Abi looked around and gave a sickly smile. "Can we go back to the main room first? I'm pretty sure I can find my way from there."

"Fair enough." And Jim led the way.

After a bit, he asked, "Now that you're here, what are you going to do?"

She shrugged. "Help kill the land squid, then go back home when the Doctor says it's time."

"And what about Artie?"

"What do you mean, what about Artie?"

"Well, you know you're not taking him with you."

"No, of course not."

Jim stopped walking and looked at her. "The way you were kissing him didn't look like 'No, of course not.' "

She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze steadily. "So?"

"So Artie's pretty casual about women. I've only seen him fall for one lady…"

She nodded, interjecting, "Lily Fortune."

"Exactly. And when he proposed to her and she turned him down, it devastated him. I won't let that happen to him again. If you have to go back to your own time, that's fine, as long as you keep things casual with him. But if he gets serious about you, you are not leaving him. I will not have Artie hurt again. If you break his heart, believe me, I don't care where you go in time or space, I **will **track you down. Do you understand me?"

She stared into those intense blue eyes. "Yes sir."

"Good."

They walked on and eventually they found the main room again, then set out for the lab. Suddenly Jim asked her, "What do you know about Lily Fortune?"

The question caught Abi by surprise. "Oh, uh… the story you, uh, referred to. That's all." And she flicked the underside of her nose.

"That's all," he repeated.

"Yeah, uh, yes."

"I see. Because it occurs to me that you know Artie's future, it being the past to you. And if you knew that Artie winds up marrying someone - Lily Fortune, perhaps, or even someone else - and here you are drawing his attention to you instead - it occurs to me, Abi, that you are setting Artie up to be that man you despise so much, the man who dumps the girl he's with to go off after another girl. Am I right?"

No answer. They walked on in silence until at last she pointed to a door and said, "That's the lab."

Jim took hold of the doorknob, paused first to recite to Abi the directions from the main room to this one, then opened the door and strode in.

...

It was the lab, all right. It rivaled the main console room in size, and the closet Abi had found near the stable in clutter. There were work counters of all sorts, tall shelves lining the walls, storage containers of every description stacked and stashed and scattered everywhere. Of to the left was the Doctor seated at one of the counters, half-hidden behind a huge pile of eclectic components, his brainy specs perched on his nose as he babbled incomprehensible jargon to himself. Artie was off to the right seated at another counter, leaning back in a rolling desk chair, his feet up on one of the random boxes and his eyes locked on the device in his hands.

"Ah, Abi, there you are!" called the Doctor. "Found the stable then, I presume? Here, chew this." And he tossed something to her.

She snatched it out of the air and shot him a strange look. "What do you mean, chew this? I'm not putting anything from your lab into my mouth! You think I'm daft?"

"It's simply chewing gum. If you'll examine the package, you'll see the seal is unbroken. Two pieces. Chew them thoroughly; I'll need them shortly."

Still stunned, she slowly unwrapped two pieces and popped them into her mouth.

"Ah, Doctor," James West spoke up. "There was another horse in the stable…"

"Oh yes, Mr West. I found him wandering about the desert earlier today, poor fellow. Says his name is Dingdangnabbit. Told him we could change that to Henry. Seemed quite pleased with that. Let's see, and he had… ah…" The Doctor moved some of his paraphernalia about randomly, then beamed as he found what he was looking for. "Oh, here it is." He unearthed a set of saddlebags and slid them to the corner of his worktable closest to Jim.

West came over, took up the bags and made a brief search within. From one bag he brought out a half dozen printing plates and from the other a stack of uncut counterfeit money printed three to a sheet.

"Artie."

No answer.

"Hey, Artie!"

"Hmm? What's that?" Artemus blinked and closed the little device he'd been absorbed in. "What do you have, Jim?"

"Hansen's saddlebags apparently, which wraps up the counterfeiting ring."

"Oh, that's great, Jim!"

Jim nodded at the little device. "And what do you have?"

"Oh, uh… something that belongs to Abi." Jim put out his hand for it and Artie reluctantly handed it over.

Jim flipped the lid open and looked it over, punching a few buttons. "What's it do?" he asked, turning toward the girl.

"Quite a lot!" Artie replied for her, taking it back and pressing the buttons expertly. "Look at this. This is amazing! See?" He held up the device between himself and Jim, and pushed a button. There was a soft ka-click. Artie pushed some more buttons, then turned it for Jim to see the small screen.

Jim's eyebrows arched. "It's a camera then. And develops the photographs instantly and in color? That's interesting. But where do you put in the plates?"

"That's just it, Jim: no plates! No darkroom, no bulky equipment. The Doctor tells me that all the information is stored inside the phone here - that's what it's called: a cell phone - the information is stored digitally. I'm still a bit vague on the concept and the mechanics of it. But that's not all it can do." He pressed more buttons, then turned the screen so both Jim and Abi could see.

On the screen was Artie in living color. The miniature figure made a bow, said, "For _ma chère cousine _Abi," then struck a pose and declaimed:

"_Our revels now are ended. These our actors,  
As I foretold you, were all spirits and  
Are melted into air, into thin air:  
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,  
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,  
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,  
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve  
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,  
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff  
As dreams are made on, and our little life  
Is rounded with a sleep."_

Again the small figure bowed, then loomed larger in the screen as his voice said, "All right, Doctor, now how do I…" And the image froze.

Jim took the device from Artie, looked it over, then figured out the proper button to press to cause it to play once more.

"It's called a video, Jim. Isn't that amazing?"

Abi crammed herself in at Jim's side to watch the video over again. "Oh, lovely! Artemus reciting Shakespeare! What a great memento of my trip!"

"What else does it do, Artie?" asked Jim. "For example, what were you doing when we came in?"

"Ah…" said Artie, his hand first rubbing at the back of his neck, then swinging forward to flick his nose. "Well, it has more functions that I haven't shown you yet. Such as…" He reached for the device, but suddenly Abi had it. She punched several buttons, then frowned at him. "Hey, you messed up my per-game average!"

Jim gave Artie a look. "A game? You were playing a game on it?"

"Yeah, well… That Sudoku game… It's, uh, pretty engrossing... Anyway…" And Artie confiscated the phone anew. "Here's something else. This is a way of sending messages back and forth. No need for wires; no need for Morse code! Although some of it does seem to be in some other kind of code." He brought up several messages for Jim's perusal.

Jim looked through them, noting that the sender or receiver was always: "AbiMG? That's you, I suppose," he said to Abi. "What's the M stand for?"

Abi scowled, took a few steps away, and stood aloof chewing her cud.

From behind his pile of junk, the Doctor snerked. "Go ahead, Abi. Confess."

She dropped her head and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

With a furious glare at the Doctor, she said, "It's Maude! Ok? My middle name is Maude!"

Both Jim and Artie grinned, though Artie at least had the good grace to bring up a hand to cover his mirth. "Really?" he said. "They named you Maude?" He glanced at Jim, then added, "Why, in a way, dear Abi, that makes you my namesake!"

"Ha ha, funny funny," she glowered. "And the way you two are acting is exactly the way my older relatives always act whenever someone brings up the subject of my middle name. And, believe me, whenever Gordons get together, someone **always **makes sure to bring it up!"

Leaning toward the girl, Artie smirked and slowly purred at her, "Abi… Maude… Gordon."

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," she growled. And suddenly her right arm blurred in a windmill motion, and something shot out and flew at Artie, catching him in the stomach.

"Oof!" He was so surprised, he staggered a bit. "What was that?"

"The rest of the pack of gum. I… I didn't think it would hurt you! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, not a bit, of course not!" He bent and retrieved the pack, which was somewhat worse for the wear now. "But what was that?" And he mimicked her windmill motion.

"Fast-pitch softball." She looked back and forth between her cousin and his partner. "I played in college. I was in the starting line-up." At their continued blank looks, she added, "Never heard of softball?"

"Anachronistic," put in the Doctor.

"Oh. Well, it's something like baseball, except you…"

"Ready for the gum now, Abi," the Doctor interrupted. She crossed to his table, licked her fingers, then took the gum from her mouth and held out it out to him.

"I don't want to touch it!" the Doctor informed her. "Just pack it in there." He pointed at a hole in the partly built gizmo.

She peered at the hole. "So… you're building a Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor…"

"Oh, very good, Abi!"

"…and part of building it includes a fat wad of chewing gum?"

The Doctor looked at her over the top of his brainy specs. "My dear Abi, when you are building your own Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor, you are perfectly free to build it however you please. But mine… has gum in it. Minty fresh, you know."

She shrugged and poked in the gum, then crossed to the sink and washed up. "Look," she said as she dried her hands, "how much longer do you think it's going to take for you to get that fiendish thingy finished, Doctor?"

"Oh… a couple of hours yet. Why?"

"Because it's pretty late for me. It was already the tail end of a long day when you picked me up. Is there maybe somewhere I can go take a nap?"

"Oh, certainly." He rattled off to her yet another series of directions.

She repeated the whole sequence back to him, then disappeared out the lab door mumbling them over to herself.

Jim by now was busy with the cell phone, trying out all the features. Feeling a bit at loose ends, Artie wandered about the lab, looking into cabinets and containers, eventually finding a box of glass baubles. And now an idea struck him. "Doctor?"

"Hmm? Yes, Mr Gordon?"

"May I use these?" He brought the box over and set it on the worktable where the Doctor could have a look.

"Use them? For what?"

Artie smiled. "Well, packed with just the right chemicals in just the right combination, these could become…" He slipped a shiny glass orb from a hidden pocket in his waistband. "…some of these."

"Ah? May I?" The Doctor accepted the orb from Mr Gordon and examined it. Sniffed it. Licked it. Then he glanced up at his guest and said, "And of course you make it a habit to carry incendiary devices on your person at all times."

"Of course," grinned Artie. "Doesn't everyone?"

The Doctor chuckled. "Well, I once had a companion who did. I was quite fond of her. Still am, in fact - even if she did insist on calling me 'Professor'…" He stared off into memory for a moment, then glanced at Mr Gordon again and returned the shiny orb. As Artie replaced it in its special pocket again, the Doctor asked him, "And what chemicals will you be needing - Ace?"

"Oh well, I… Uh… Ace?"

The Doctor just smiled.

With a shrug, Gordon named off to him a short wish list, and the Doctor directed him here and there about the room till he had everything he needed. Soon Artie was busily making bombs while the Doctor continued constructing his fiendish thingy. Meanwhile, Jim West was discovering that Artie had been right: Sudoku **was** engrossing.


	7. The Wardrobe

**The Wardrobe**

"Abi…" A hand was shaking her shoulder. "Abi, honey, come on. It's time to wake up."

She groaned and pulled the pillow over her face to block out the sudden brightness of light.

"Abi, you need to get up now," the voice insisted.

"Huh? Wha…? Where's my phone? I didn't hear the alarm go off. Am I late for work, Dad?"

There was a brief silence, followed by a soft chuckle. "Abi, this isn't your father!"

"Huh?" Now she took the pillow away and looked up, squinting, willing her eyes to stay open when all they wanted to do was close back down for sleep. A face swam into view and then into focus: broad face, broad smile across it, twinkling warm brown eyes…

She smiled back. "Artemus…" Then, "Artemus!" She sprang up, only to lose her balance and sit back down all too suddenly on the edge of the bed. She rubbed at her face with her hands to scour away the lethargy. "Artemus… Then… I wasn't dreaming. I really am back in time, visiting you and Jim. And we're in the TARDIS."

"Yes."

"And… Oh! The land squid! Is the Doctor done building the fiendish thingy?"

"You mean the Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor?"

She gave a snort. "Yes, you showoff."

"Oh, I'm a showoff? And from whom did I learn the name of the fiendish thingy, hmm?"

"Oh. Yeah, that… that was me, wasn't it?"

"Mm-hmm." He took her hand and boosted her to her feet. "Now. The Doctor sent me to fetch you, since he has his weapon ready to go do battle with the land squid. Frankly, I don't know why he's insisting that you come along. For my part, I thought you might prefer to catch up on your sleep, instead of trooping out there to be a spectator and watch the squid get blown up."

"Oh. Well, he wants me there because the last time, I… uh…" She stopped talking abruptly, glanced at Artie, and gave a small smile.

"The last time you what?" A frown creased his face. "He's not planning to use you for bait to get the monster to open its mouth, is he? You didn't really go through with that crazy idea of his with the other land squid, did you, Abi?"

"No no no, we did something else. Um… I don't suppose you have any coffee on you, do you?" she asked hopefully.

"Sorry, no. I tend to carry a lot of uncommon things in my pockets, but an open mug of hot coffee is not among them." He looked into her drowsy face, and a sly grin stole over his features. "However…" he said.

And then he kissed her. "Oh!" she murmured, responding blissfully to the enchanting sensation of his mouth on hers. "Mmm…" she added as the kiss came to an end. "That was wonderful…"

"Well, in lieu of coffee, I thought you might find that, ah, stimulating."

"Oh, definitely!" She laid her cheek against his shoulder and hugged him tightly.

He embraced her in return, then tipped up her chin. "By the way… As I recall, someone around here said something about, and I quote, 'If I had access to a time machine…'?"

She blushed and dropped her eyes.

"And here I find out that you did!" He tipped her chin up once more. "And you meant that? About the me I am now being perfect?"

"Any you, any time, would be perfect, Artemus. But yes - especially the you that you are right now."

"Well. Again, I'm flattered."

"And again, I don't do flattery."

Maybe you believe that, Abi, he thought and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "But we need to hurry now. The Doctor's waiting."

"Where's Jim?"

"Waiting as well. Come on."

"Where are we going then?"

"Out."

"Oh," said Abi. "I don't think I know which way is out from here."

"That's all right. The Doctor gave me directions." Artie pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and consulted it. "This way."

They walked for some time with Artie using a pencil to check off the turnings, until at last, "And beyond this door should be the main console room and with it, the exit." He threw open the door with a flourish.

Beyond… beyond was not the main console room. Instead they saw a tall room with a spiral staircase rising high above their heads. The staircase was lined round and round with racks upon racks of clothing. Bright clothing and dull clothing, new and old, fashionable and archaic. Multiple centuries' worth of costumery filled their vision, fit to make the heart of an actor, such as Mr Gordon, fairly palpitate with glee.

He stared at the incredible display, eyes wide, jaw swinging. Then, with a grin, he said, "I'll say with Celia:  
_'I like this place,  
And willingly could waste my time in it.' _"

Abi frowned and tilted her head. "Shakespeare?"

"_As You Like It_, yes. And this," he added, sweeping an arm to take in the whole, "this is as I like!"

"This is the Doctor's wardrobe, where I got this outfit. And somewhere around here…" Abi roamed about briefly. "Yes! Here are my own clothes."

Artie glanced at them, then did a double take. "That's how you normally dress?"

"Sure. Jeans and a T-shirt. It's practically the uniform of youth."

"But you're a girl."

"So?"

"So don't you like to look, well, feminine?"

She gave him a look askance. "I'm a mailroom clerk. I lug big heavy boxes around all day. Who's going to expect me to look feminine?"

"Well," said Artie slowly, "I like feminine. For example," and he drew a gorgeous burgundy gown off a nearby rack and held it up against her. "I would love to see you in this."

She laughed. "I bet you would!"

"Yes," said Artie. "I would. Of course," he added ruefully, "we really ought to be finding our way to the exit." He looked about. "But how I would love to spend, oh, five or six hours in here!" A pause. "Make that five or six days."

Abi chuckled. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind camping in here for quite a while myself." She headed for the door. "Which way from here?"

"Ah… I have no idea. I followed the directions I had and we wound up here. Don't you know your way around?"

"I've only been in the TARDIS a few hours longer than you have. I don't know which way to go."

"But you've been in this room before."

"Yes. Once. And the Doctor led me here and led me away again. I'm sorry; I didn't think to memorize the route."

Artie sighed, his hand straying up to flick at his nose. "Well," he said at length, "it seems to me that we have two choices. We can go out that door and wander about hoping we find our way to somewhere familiar…"

Abi made a face at that choice.

"…or we can wait here for Jim and the Doctor to miss us and hope that they find us." Almost to himself, he muttered, "If only we had a way to send them a message."

Abi snapped her fingers. "Message - of course! Give me my phone. I'll text the Doctor and let him know where we are."

"Ah…"

"What?"

Artie rubbed at the back of his neck, his face twisted into a mask of contrition. "I'm sorry, Abi. I don't have your phone anymore. Jim was looking at it, and I never got it back."

"Oh."

Glum silence reigned for a long while. Until finally Artie said, "Well, as we seem to have some time to kill…" And he held out to Abi the burgundy gown.

She stared at it, then at him. Then, with a wag of her finger and an admonition of "No peeking!" she laughed and snatched the gown from him, then strode off to the changing screen to try on the dress.

"Ready or not!" she called shortly, then emerged from behind the screen and turned a pirouette. At the obvious delight that sprang up in Artie's eyes, she blushed.

"You look beautiful, Abi," he said.

She laughed. "You're not so bad yourself."

With a low bow, Artie held out a hand to her and said, "May I have this dance, _chère cousine?_"

"Oh!" she said in dismay. "I, uh… I don't know out to dance."

"You don't? Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we?" He took her hand, laying his other hand on her waist. "Put your hand on my shoulder, Abi. Now, this is a basic box step; just watch my feet and do what I do, but backwards, all right? And… one, two, three, one, two, three…"

The lesson didn't last very long. After a great number of apologies on the girl's part, Artie gave up, saying, "Well, Abi my dear, I believe we just might have to consider your feet to be lethal weapons."

"I'm so sorry!"

"You know, Mrs Lincoln would tell the story of how she met the future President. They were each attending a dance when he came over to her and said, 'Miss Todd, I would like to dance with you in the worst way. And,' she would always add with a twinkle in her eye, 'do you know, he did!' "

Abi winced. "And that's me too."

"Don't worry about it, Abi. Now, is there," he added, glancing around the room, "something else you'd like to do?"

She too glanced around the wardrobe, then grinned. "In fact, Artemus, yes there is!"

...

Come on, Artie, where are you? Jim thought as he wandered the halls of the TARDIS, opening door after door after door. So far he'd found a kitchen, a library, a swimming pool, an observatory, some sort of theater, three gymnasiums, several bedrooms in a wide variety of decor schemes, and any number of catch-all rooms. But where was Artie?

Jim turned a corner and paused to take in the view of yet another dozen doors. Maybe one of these, he thought, and started along the corridor opening one after the next.

Another kitchen. Storage room. Art gallery. Another gym. Exceedingly opulent bathroom. Linen closet. Squash court…

The opening of the next door revealed a magnificent spiral staircase, lined round and round with more racks of clothing than James West had ever expected to see in one place together - or, for that matter, had ever cared to see. But it was the sort of place Artie would consider a paradise. However, there didn't seem to be any inhabitants in this overgrown wardrobe, so Jim started to close the door. And at that moment, a flash of movement caught his eye.

Around one of the bends of the enormous spiral, somebody bounded into view, moving backwards. The extraordinary somebody was dressed in an oversized coat of the sort that had been the height of fashion in the seventeenth century, along with loose-fitting striped knee breeches, shiny black boots with floppy cuffs at the tops, and a tricorne hat. Completing the ensemble was the cutlass in the bizarre figure's hand.

A pirate? "Ha ha!" laughed the pirate in a high feminine voice, amending it to, "I mean, Ha ha! Avast there, matey!" in a voice now about an octave lower, but still utterly feminine.

And now, as the pirate bounded backward yet again, a second figure hove into Jim's sight, this one calling out, "Two. Now five. Three. No, I said three!" in an extremely familiar voice. The figure was familiar as well, startlingly so. For a moment, Jim was transported by memory back to his one and only meeting with "Jack Maitland?"

He certainly looked the part: floral vest, deep brown cutaway coat, silk cravat tied in a large bow at his throat, lace at his wrists, snug-fitting light brown trousers tucked into tall boots. Even the plummy aristocratic tone in his voice, the way he all but bit off each word - Jack Maitland!

Of course it was Artie. Sword in hand, he pressed forward against the pirate, driving his opponent back and back again, all the while calling out one number after another. Jim pinpointed the exact moment when Artie spotted him: a gleam came into his brown eyes and he stepped up the attack on the pirate. "Rapscallion!" he cried. "You shall never prevail against me!"

The pirate continued to fall back as Artie pressed on, still calling out numbers. Now the pirate spotted the man in the doorway as well and cried out, "Hey! We have an audience. Hi, Jim!" And at that moment, with his opponent thus distracted, Artie smacked the flat of his blade smartly across the pirate's derrière.

This elicited a yelp. "Artemus!"

Artie wagged a finger at the young pirate. "Never break character," he said, "and never drop your guard. Hi, Jim!" he added. And when the pirate tried to pay him back tit for tat, Artie swung about, caught his opponent's sword with his own, and with a deft movement of his wrist sent the other's weapon flying to clatter onto the floor near Jim's feet.

"No fair!" cried the pirate, flinging down her hat.

"What does fair have to do with anything?" called Jim. He stooped to pick up the cutlass and examined it. Just as he thought, it was a stage sword and nothing more. Not surprising; the numbers Artie had been calling out were from a system of stage fencing, each number representing a particular stance or movement of the sword. "You do understand," Jim said, passing the sword back to the piratical Abi, "that what you were just doing is the opposite of real fencing?"

"Mm-hmm," said the girl. "Artemus explained. In stage fencing, the idea is to have your sword where your opponent expects it to be, so there's lots of clashing of blades, but no one gets hurt."

"Whereas in a real fight," said Artie, "the idea is to have your blade where your opponent doesn't expect it to be, so you can break through his guard and - touché!" Suddenly the blunted tip of Artie's sword was pressed to Abi's sternum. She stared down at it, round eyed. Artie laughed and the weapon vanished. The next moment he grabbed her wrist, whirled her into his arms, then dipped her. Smiling down at her stunned face, he said again, "Never let down your guard," and gave her a sudden quick kiss before setting her upright on her feet again. "Off you go; get dressed," he added.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she admired him with happy eyes for a moment before heading off to the changing screen to obey.

Both men watched her out of sight, then Jim asked quietly, "All right, Artie, what are you up to?"

With a blank and innocent look, his partner said, "Up to?"

"Kissing that girl. What are you up to?"

Artie gathered the girl's sword and took both weapons to a rack and put them away. "Do you know why she's here, Jim?"

Jim shrugged. "The Doctor brought her here."

"Yes. He offered her one trip anywhere she'd like to go in all of time and space, and she chose to come see me. Well, us. Her dad and grandpa raised her on stories of our exploits, Jim, but being Gordons, they tended to focus on me." He paused and looked off toward the changing screen. With a crooked smile, he said, "She wanted to meet me."

"Not just meet you, I think," said Jim.

"Ah… yeah…" Artie took off the cutaway coat and vest and hung them up, then removed the cravat as well. "She does seem to have the idea that she's in love with me. That rather shocked me at first. How can you be in love with someone you've just met? Not to mention the fact that I don't make it a habit to troll for dates within my own family tree. But then… I thought things over for a bit. And I decided, since the Doctor will be taking her back home shortly and we'll never see each other again - I thought, what can it hurt to give her what she wants? Lavish some attention on her, give her some hugging and kissing, then send her home with happy memories." He smiled. "Besides, she's just the cutest little thing! And it's very flattering, the way her eyes light up when she looks at me."

Artie turned now and saw the look on Jim's face. "What's wrong?"

"Just… be careful, Artie."

"Careful!" He chuckled. "Aw, c'mon, Jim! You know me. Besides, what could happen?"

Abi emerged from behind the changing screen, dressed now in her regular clothes. "Your turn!" she called.

Artie gathered his own garments and started for the screen. He paused however as he drew even with her. "You have words on your shirt?"

She glanced down. "Yeah. It's a T-shirt. T-shirts generally have something printed on them. Why?" she added, sounding slightly defensive. "Something wrong with that?"

"Wrong? Uh, no. It's just… Don't people wind up, uh, staring at your… your, um… front, trying to read the words?"

She paused. It was a thought that had never occurred to her before. "…Maybe…" she said at last. Then, indicating what was written on her shirt, she asked, "Do you get it?"

"Well," said Artie, "here you have the Greek letter pi, representing the irrational number 3.14159 etc, talking with _i_, representing the imaginary number the square root of negative one. And _i_ says to pi, 'Be rational,' while pi says to _i_, 'Get real.' " He smiled at her. "It's a cute joke. I like it."

"And you get it! Great! Do you know how often I have to explain to people what this joke means?"

He tipped his head at her. "If you have to explain the joke, which obviously annoys you, why do you wear the shirt?"

She hesitated, then said, "It's a test, ok? And a long story."

"A test," said Artie. "And did I pass?"

She beamed. "With flying colors."

"Excellent!" said Artie, and headed for the changing screen to get back into his own clothes.

...

"Well," Artie said once they were ready to leave the wardrobe behind them, "which way?"

Jim pointed back the way he'd come and off they went. "You know, Artie, you and Abi could have wandered around looking for the exit for yourselves. You didn't have to wait for me to come find you."

Artie nodded. "I thought of it. But this isn't any ordinary building. Even in a labyrinth, you can place a hand on one wall and faithfully follow that wall around until at last you get out. But here... I wouldn't be surprised if the halls and doors and rooms rearrange themselves when no one is looking. Besides, I was reasonably sure you'd be coming to look for me, James."

Jim gave a small smile. "Well, of course I would! Imagine all the paperwork I'd have to fill out if I lost my partner. You know how much I hate to do paperwork, Artie."

"I know you always manage to get me to do the bulk of it, yes!"

"Right! So if I lost you here in the TARDIS, who would wind up having to fill out all the forms to report it? Me, of course." Jim gave Artie a sidelong look. "I don't want to have to do that."

There was a snerk. Both agents turned to look at Abi. She was grinning, her eyes dancing merrily. "You two," she said chuckling. "You really do that, huh?"

"Do what?"

"All that bantering. It's fun hearing you!"

"Well, how nice to know we're entertaining you, _chèrie_. You're welcome."

They rounded another corner and Jim stopped short. He frowned, then glanced back behind them the way they'd come, his frown deepening.

"Problem, Jim?"

"This doesn't look right. The hall we just came out of looked familiar, but not this one." Jim shot Artie a look. "You know, you just might be right about the TARDIS rearranging itself behind our backs. However…" And he pulled from his pocket a small device.

"My phone!" said Abi. "Want me to text the Doctor? or call him?"

"No, I've got it," said Jim. "When I told the Doctor I was going to go search for you, he took the phone from me and put what he called an app on it."

"A nap?" said Artie, plainly puzzled.

"Actually, it looks like a map. But I'm sure he said it was an app."

Abi was nodding. "Application, it's short for. What kind of app?"

"This," said Jim. He pressed buttons to bring the app up on the screen, then in the blank marked Destination, he typed the word "Exit," and pressed the OK button. And now, as he had said, a map took over the screen, an animated arrow pointing the way. Jim passed the phone to his keenly interested partner and off they went once more, following the arrow on the screen until at last…

"**Now **the main console room!" said Artie, throwing the door before them open with a flourish. And this time he was right.


	8. The Fiendish Thingy

**The Fiendish Thingy**

"Ah, there you are!" said the Doctor as the trio emerged from the TARDIS and stood blinking in the bright sunlight. "Here, Abi, if you would carry that," he added, passing her the fiendish thingy. Draped over his arm were a number of rain slickers in various bright colors. "We'll be wanting these later," he said. "Right, Abi?" He didn't wait for her to back up his assertion, but turned to Jim and said, "Mr West, I believe the vantage you had earlier overlooking the house would be the best spot from which we should attack the land squid . If you would lead the way?"

"All right, Doctor." West led off, the Doctor matching his pace with long-legged strides.

Shortly the four of them were navigating the steep and narrow passage up the north wall, Artie hovering behind Abi, catching at her now and again to steady her. Once they reached the top however, as Jim and the Doctor walked on, Artie paused and said to Abi, "Ah… May I see that?"

"What, the fiendish thingy?"

He nodded and held out his hand.

"Why?" said Abi as she gave it to him.

"Curiosity," he said. He looked it over. It was roughly the size and shape of a grapefruit, quite smooth and featureless. "And it does what again?" he asked.

"Well, it…" She shrugged. "It turned the other land squid into a quadrillion tiny pieces. Ask me how I know! I insisted we - the Doctor and I - clean up the mess. We cleared away every little bit and threw all of it into the big trash bin out back of my house. What a mess that was!"

"In other words, it's a bomb," said Artie.

"Well, sure!"

He gave her a frown. "A bomb. And the Doctor hands it off to you to carry it?"

She frowned in return. "So?"

"So it's a bomb! Carrying it puts you in danger. What if it goes off in your hands?"

"It's not going to go off," Abi scoffed.

"And you know this how? You were barely in the lab when he was working on it. What sort of triggering mechanism did he put into it? Do you know?"

"Do you?" she countered.

"Well," Artie admitted, "I saw it. I'm not sure how it works."

"Well, I do know how it works. I saw how he triggered the first fiendish thingy. I could carry it all day and it won't go off till the Doctor's ready for it to blow. So give it back." She held out her hand.

"I'll carry it, Abi."

"Why?" She laughed. "Because I'm a girl and not to be trusted with dangerous things?"

"No!"

"Then why?"

"Because… well, because you're a girl and should be protected from dangerous things."

"Artemus Gordon!" said Abi. "Don't be such a troglodyte!"

"Oh, I'm a troglodyte! And by this you mean…?"

"A, a knuckle-dragger. A throw-back. Someone who thinks women are helpless and hopeless."

"I didn't say I think you're helpless, Abi. Or hopeless. I just don't want you to get hurt."

She looked up at him with those huge eyes again. "I don't want you to get hurt either," she said. She laid a hand on the side of his face fondly, then stretched up and kissed the other side. She drew back slightly and smiled at him, her eyes roaming over his face. For a full second her gaze rested on his lips, then snapped back up to his eyes, and he guessed what was coming next.

He guessed right. Her hand slid into his hair, tugging his head down toward hers. She kissed him, another of her wild and hungry kisses. A bit tamer now than at first, and, so he thought, not as disconcerting as previously. Indeed, he was beginning to find her kisses rather, well, intriguing. Bless her heart, she certainly put all she had into them! If it weren't for the fact that he was carefully cradling the fiendish thingy in both his hands, he would have embraced her, pulling her against him, crushing her close.

She drew back and smiled up into his face yet again. "I love you," she whispered. And then a wicked gleam came into her eyes. She shot him a wink, then turned and trotted off after Jim and the Doctor.

A wink? Why had she winked? What was that about?

Abruptly he realized that his hands were empty! "She took it!" he exclaimed. "Why that little brat, she stole it! She certainly is still learning from me. That insufferable… Abi!" And he took off in hot pursuit.

...

They reached the rock again from which Artemus had first spotted Abi and looked down at the house - or what was left of it. While the Doctor had been busy replicating the fiendish thingy, the land squid had apparently been busy as well, its multitude of tentacles finding and demolishing the paltry shack. Boards, shingles, broken glass and the shredded remnants of bed and mattress, printing press and paper - all were scattered abroad over the landscape, the two major concentrations being at the site of the former house itself, and in a loose circle round the mouth of the land squid.

"I suppose our little friend found it less than palatable," remarked the Doctor. He began passing out the rain slickers he'd been carrying. "Mr West… Mr Gordon… Abi…" He shrugged himself into the final one, closing the fasteners and drawing up the hood. "Everyone dressed?"

The two agents watched as Abi passed the bomb back to the Doctor long enough to don her own slicker, then accepted the fiendish thingy from him anew. "Why the slickers?" asked Jim.

"I think I have an idea," said Artie and pulled his on. As he and Jim finished with the closures on the slickers, Abi quipped, "Kind of like being in the front row for that comic - what's his name? Guy with the sledge hammer and the watermelons?"

The Doctor, however, was studying the land squid. He turned to Abi. "Can you hit that?"

She squinted, tipping her head, getting an idea of the range. "Well… it's a bit farther off than the first one was. If I miss…"

"Pray don't."

"If I miss, what next? You build another one?"

"I would very much prefer you not miss, Abi!"

"Wait," said Artie. "You don't mean to tell us…"

"**Abi's **going to throw the bomb at the land squid?" said Jim.

"Not at. Into."

The two agents exchange glances, then began to snicker.

"Doctor, you can't be serious!"

"No offense, but Abi?"

She scowled. "What, you think I can't hit the broad side of a barn with it?" she challenged.

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it… but that about sums it up, yes."

"Give it here," said Jim. "I'll do it."

"Troglodytes…" muttered the girl. She shifted the bomb to her left hand and, stooping down, snatched up a rock of roughly equal size to the fiendish thingy, tossed the rock into the air, snagged it back out of the air, then gave a flashing windmill windup and sent the rock sailing out far over the desert to crash into the ground not far from the land squid.

The Doctor nodded in satisfaction. "You have the range, Abi," he said.

Abi turned to meet the stunned gazes of West and Gordon. "Anything you'd like to add, gentlemen?" said she.

"Ah… actually, yes," said Artie. "So, um, when the Doctor sent me to wake you up and bring you out here, it wasn't for you to be the spectator, Abi. It was for me and Jim to be the spectators. Right?"

The Doctor shrugged. "This worked well the first time. Ready, Abi?"

She shifted the bomb to her throwing arm. "Ready, Doctor."

"Then let's get the old fellow to open his mouth, eh?" The Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver, chose a setting, then aimed it at the land squid. The by-now familiar electronic whine filled the air.

Out in the desert, the land squid squirmed and thrashed and flailed. Its tentacles writhed about, feeling all over the ground, picking up one thing after the next, its mouth slavering as it opened and closed, opened and closed. Opened…

"Now, Abi!"

There was the windup. And the pitch. And out flew the Nanocellular Phospholipidal Reversipolarising Abruptodisruptor, rocketing through the air toward that central orifice amidst the tangling mass of tentacles. Four breaths caught and held as time slowed down. Would the fiendish thingy find its mark? Would the pitch fall short? Would one of the tentacles perhaps wave at the wrong moment and deflect it?

"Go in," muttered Artie's voice. "It's just right there. Come on, in you go. And… Yes!"

"Doctor, quickly! Before the blow-back reflex kicks in!"

"Yes, yes, I know, Abi!" said the Doctor. But anything else he or the others might have added was instantly overwhelmed by the renewal of the sonic screwdriver's whine.

Again the tentacles thrashed and flailed. Then they all drew up high, as high as possible, trembling, quivering, vibrating…

"Ew!" Just as both the Doctor and Abi remembered so well, the air was suddenly filled with pinkish orange as the fiendish thingy did its work of reducing the land squid on a nanocellular level to its component bits, every phospholipid membrane of its makeup abruptly reversing in polarization as the land squid was disrupted into goo, icky pink goo.

And the four on the rocky height found that, yes, they were within range of the magnificent splattering. Artie even got a mouthful and began hacking, trying to spit out the disgusting stuff.

"Well!" said the Doctor in contentment. "And that's that. Time to go now, Abi m'dear."

"Oh but... that quickly?"

He looked at her from under arched eyebrows. "There's any reason left to linger?"

She glanced, of course, at Artie. "Ah…"

The Doctor tipped his head and made a tsk noise. "Time to go, Abi." He caught her by the hand and led her off back the way they'd come, back to the precipitous path into the box canyon, back into the TARDIS, the agents following close behind.

...

But they didn't leave quite yet. All four naturally wanted to do a certain amount of cleaning up first - Artie in particular was very happy to be granted the loan of a toothbrush and some mouthwash - and there was also the matter of the agents' transportation. The Doctor graciously presented Hansen's horse, the erstwhile Dingdangnabbit, to Mr Gordon to spare him a trip back to the Wanderer on foot, and Jim found his way back to the ad hoc stable to collect the rechristened Henry, and Blackjack as well.

Meanwhile, once Artie was done with his ablutions, he went in search of…

"Abi."

She was standing outside the TARDIS to the side of the door, looking up at the sky. And, as she turned to see Artemus smiling at her, he caught just a hint of teariness in her big brown eyes.

"Oh!" she said and turned away. He saw her lift the collar of her T-shirt to dab at her eyes before she turned back again. "Hello, Artemus," she said.

"Abi," he said, holding out a hand, "would you care to take a little walk with me? That is, of course, if you have a few minutes to spare?" There was an enchanting sparkle in his eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, Abi slipped her hand into his. He instantly tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and set off walking.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, just over here. Not far."

"And may I ask why?"

With a grin, he replied, "Well, you may **ask**…" He chuckled, then added, "I was just thinking we might find a private spot to, ah, make our good-byes." His eyes swept over her, still with that sparkle in them.

"Oh!" She looked happy and intrigued with his notion and gave the arm her hand was tucked through a squeeze. He covered her hand with his own as he continued to escort her across the box canyon toward its entrance.

Jim emerged from the TARDIS leading both horses and spotted the couple strolling off into the distance. He frowned. "Where are they going?" he said aloud.

"Hmm? Where are who…?" The Doctor came to the door of the TARDIS and had a look for himself. "Ah," he said. "I see." Going back to whatever it was he'd been doing, he remarked, "Getting in one final snogging session, no doubt."

Jim's frown deepened. "Snogging? Excuse me, but…" He was almost afraid to ask. "What, ah… what does snogging mean?"

The Doctor gave a tight smile in response. "Ask our Abi. If anybody knows what snogging means, she does."

"Ah," said Artemus as they reached the entrance to the canyon. "Just a bit farther now… Yes, here. I believe this is private enough."

"Private enough for what?" she asked with a bit of a sparkle in her eyes as well.

He smiled at her. "Mmm. Well, as the Doctor is going to be taking you home and we'll assuredly never see each other again, I was thinking of what sort of good-bye you might like best." His hands slid onto her waist and he drew her a bit closer. "Unless you'd prefer to simply shake hands," he added with a twinkle.

"Mmm. That's what I thought you had in mind," she smiled, her hands sliding up to rest on the lapels of his fringed jacket. Then she paused and gave him a sharp look. "No teasing? No more picking my pocket?"

"Do you have anything in your pocket anymore?"

"Well… no. Not even my phone."

"Ah. Phone. You wanted that back, didn't you?" Releasing her, he reluctantly produced the phone from an inside pocket of his jacket and transferred it to the pocket of her jeans. "There you go. A reverse pocket-picking, if you will."

She laughed, looking up at him, her eyes shining. "And of course you no longer have anything in your hands for me to steal," she teased.

"Now I do," he murmured to her as he slipped his hands round her waist again and bent his head over her.

Instantly her arms were around his neck, her eager young body pressed up against him, her lips fastened hungrily to his. He drew her closer, wrapping her up in his arms, taking charge of the kiss so that at last she melted in his embrace.

At length - at great length - he ended the kiss and smiled down at her again. "My Abi," he whispered.

She gazed up at him, breathless, enraptured. "Oh Artemus!" she sighed happily. "I love you."

Ah. He had been expecting that and had already given some thought to reciprocating, to professing love for her as well. It wouldn't be true, of course; there was one great love of his life and she was not little Abi. But the girl in his arms, he was sure, would be so thrilled at hearing the magic words from his lips that she would accept them without question and cherish them for the rest of her days. Or so he reasoned.

Summoning up every ounce of joy and sincerity he could muster from his actor's soul, he smiled down at her and said, "Abi. Sweet Abi. _Ma chère cousine_. I lo…"

Abi shrieked and sprang backwards a good three feet, a look of utter horror on her face. "Abi!" cried Artie in shock. "What's wrong?"

"I… I felt… Something just crawled over my foot!" She shuddered and stared down at the patch of ground she'd just vacated. "It… Oh, there!" she pointed.

Artie had spotted it too and hunkered down for a closer look. It was a little glob of iridescent pink goo, perhaps the size of a golf ball, with something like threads trailing off it. It looked, amazingly enough, rather like a jellyfish. Artie frowned. "A jellyfish in the desert? Why are all these aquatic creatures popping up out here? Wait. You don't suppose…" He produced the pencil from inside his jacket and used it to poke at the jellyfish.

Instantaneously the threads wrapped round the shaft of the pencil, wrenching it from Artie's fingers. At the very center of the ring of threads appeared an opening into which the gripping threads thrust the pencil with a crunch.

Artie leapt to his feet and stared at Abi, who was staring right back. Slowly he turned till he was facing off toward the location where the land squid had once been. "Stay… stay here, Abi," he ordered and set off along the path westward.

Did he say for her to stay there? Yes. Did she? Ha!

Artie crept up on a corner, then rounded it. Now he stopped in his tracks, his jaw swinging somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.

Pink globs. Thousands - no, millions of them. They were thinly scattered on the ground here, but clustered more and more thickly the further off Artie looked. Pink globs - on the move.

"What…?" came a halfway hysterical voice near his elbow.

Artie glanced at the disobedient girl, then looked back at the landscape full of opalescent pink. He then grabbed her arm and said to her one of the Doctor's favorite words:

"Run!"


	9. The Abduction

**The Abduction**

"Jim!" "Doctor!"

The twin shouts of alarm brought both men running - Jim from tending to the horses, the Doctor from the interior of the TARDIS. Breathlessly, Artie and Abi spoke by turns describing what they had just seen.

"What?" said the Doctor, his eyebrows knitting in a look of horror. "What?"

"Show us," said Jim briskly.

Artie nodded and strode off toward the canyon entrance again, leading the way. Abi, however, snapped her fingers suddenly and darted for the TARDIS instead.

"Coming, Abi?" called the Doctor.

"Um… no. You go on without me. I thought of something and need to check on it."

"Ah. Very well." And the tall skinny fellow set off after the agents.

It was an unnerving sight that met the eyes of Jim and the Doctor, and Artie spoke for all of them when he said, "What do we do now?"

"Ah…" said the Doctor. "Well… It **is **the middle of the desert. Suppose we could just… leave it?"

"If we could do that, why didn't you say so before we blew it up?"

"Besides - the railroad runs by this area less than a mile to the west. We can't just leave it."

"Ah." The Doctor rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well. For now, let's, ah, let's return to the TARDIS. This is going to require some thought."

"And it didn't before?" muttered Artie under his breath as the three trudged back to the blue box in the canyon.

Abi met them at the door as they arrived. "Doctor! Come see this." The girl led the way to the lab where a large metal tub was resting on one of the worktables. "Have a look," she said.

The men did. And each one in his own way did a double take. "Abi? Where did you get these?" For the tub was half-full of shiny little pink jellyfish.

"From the bathroom where we were cleaning up just now. They were all over the rain slickers. I just picked up the slickers and shook them out into this tub. I figured, you know…" She shrugged. "Since the fiendish thingy only made things worse, we needed some samples to experiment on, to find out what really will kill them."

The Doctor beamed. "Brilliant, Abi!"

"After all," she added with a pointed look at the Doctor, "there's a big ol' trash bin back home behind my house that's just chock-full of these little babies, waiting for you and me to get rid of them. Right, Doctor?"

"Ah…" said the Doctor. Then, clapping his hands together, he said, "Well, let's get on with it then, shall we?"

They found three more tubs and divided the contents among them. And shortly they had learned that the little critters found both acids and bases yummy, based on the fact that spraying them with either only resulted in larger jellyfish. A few more bright ideas fell by the wayside as well. Presently the Doctor was sitting at a counter glaring into one of the tubs, his hands ruffling in his already well-ruffled hair as he muttered at himself, "Think! Think! Think!" And Artie's nose was likely to start hurting if he thumped at it anymore.

Suddenly Jim spoke up. "Doctor, when we first saw the land squid coming up out of the ground, I shot it. And you immediately shouted to me not to do such a thing again. Remember?"

"Yes yes, Mr West, of course I remember that," said the Doctor with irritation. "What has that to do with anything?"

"I'm just wondering why you thought shooting it was a bad idea. As it turned out, you were right, because as soon as it was wounded, the land squid grew a new tentacle. Did you know that would happen?"

"Ah…" said the Doctor, and frowned.

"Did something like that happen with the other land squid? The one you and Abi dealt with?"

"Ah…" said the Doctor again. And Abi replied, "No, Jim. We didn't wound the other land squid. We just blew it up."

West leaned forward then, his intense blue eyes locked on the Doctor. "Then why did you tell me not to shoot it? How did you know what would happen?"

The Doctor made a face at him and waved a hand for silence. He hopped up and started pacing, gabbling out incomprehensible babbling nonsense to himself, talking as it seemed in circles. Until - "Hydra!"

"Hydra?" Artie shot him a sharp look. "The sea creature? Or…?"

"No no no no, Mr Gordon. Not the sea creature, but the mythological one. You realize of course that the ancient myths of your people actually represent memories of encounters with alien beings of old. Hercules, we are told, fought a creature called the Hydra. Real fellow - I've met him - and a real creature. And according to the myth…"

Artie's eyes were gleaming. "Every time Hercules cut a head off the Hydra, it grew a new one - no, **two **new heads! And the way he finally killed it…"

Jim nodded. "He had his assistant use a burning torch to cauterize the wound each time he cut a head off, which stopped new heads from growing back."

"Fire…" said Abi.

"Precisely!" said the Doctor. He turned on a lab burner, used a pair of tongs to fetch one of the jellyfish from a tub, then held the little globby thing to the flame. As all eyes watched, the jellyfish steamed, and sizzled - and quite suddenly caught flame, then collapsed into a smoldering pile of ash.

"Brilliant!" exclaimed the Doctor. "We just need to burn them all."

"That's quite a lot of all!" said Abi.

"True. But I have something that should do the trick… ah… somewhere about here…"

"So do I," said Artie. He grabbed Hansen's saddlebags, dumped the contents out, then began carefully loading into them the glass baubles he'd filled with incendiary chemicals earlier, wrapping each little bomb in a sheet of the counterfeit money to cushion them so they wouldn't rattle together and break catastrophically. "Ready, Jim?" he asked once he was done.

Jim smiled and pulled a cigar case from his jacket pocket. "And I have a few of these as well."

Artie grinned back. "Want us to wait for you, Doctor?"

"Hmm? Oh no no no. Don't mind me. I'll be along shortly." He waved a long-fingered hand at them, then went back to rummaging about the lab, looking for who-knew-what.

"Do you need me, Doctor?" asked Abi.

"Probably not. Why?"

"Because if you don't want me to stay and help you, I'd like to go on ahead with Artemus and Jim." She bobbed her eyebrows at the agents. "You wouldn't mind an extra throwing arm, would you?"

...

After a brief delay to return the horses to the stable, the three reached again the rocks above the ruined shack to find that little pink jellyfish were everywhere, including on the height where they had so recently stood. Digging into the saddlebags, Artie said, "Allow me," backed up several yards, checked to be sure his partner and the girl were behind him, then lobbed one of the tiny explosives onto the high ground. The fireball it made was exquisite to behold. And when it died down…

Artie made an expansive gesture. "After you, James."

Indeed, there were no longer even traces of jellyfish on the height now. Artie lowered the saddlebags gently to the ground while Jim took up a good vantage point and lit a normal cigarillo, then used it to light one of the specials. He let it burn till it started to sparkle, then launched it out into the sea of shimmering pink below. FOOM!

Artie grinned and hurled another of his glass baubles. BAM!

In short order the landscape below was pockmarked with blackened circles from the bombs and cigars. Jim ran through his supply very quickly, but Artie had more than enough to share. Abi, though, had to make several entreaties before Artie, with obvious reluctance, gingerly passed her a bomb. She whipped it off, landing it almost exactly in the crater where the original monster had been rooted, then held out a hand for another.

Artie hesitated.

Jim shook his head at his partner. "You might as well just let her go ahead and throw as many as she wants, Artie."

"But, Jim! What if she drops one?"

"Yeah? What if **you **drop one?" Abi countered. "And don't talk about me in the third person as if I'm not even here!"

"Well…" said Artie, his misgivings plain on his face.

Abi laid a hand on his chest and stretched up to give him a peck on the cheek. "I know you want to protect me," she said, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. "It's how you're wired. And you did protect me when I nearly got bitten by the rattlesnake. You didn't even know who I was, but you protected me. But this time - this is something I'm good at. Let me do what I'm good at."

Artie sighed and closed his eyes. Then he nodded. "All right, Abi. Help yourself. **But**," he added, giving her a severe glare "you do know that if you blow us all up, I'll never speak to you again!"

She grinned. "Of course not. Neither would I!"

Now all three continued on tossing Artie's little bombs. Until…

"Hmm," said Artie, looking into the saddlebags. "Only two left."

"And still a lot of pink out there," Jim observed. "Hope whatever the Doctor has in mind will get rid of the rest of them."

"Me too. In the meantime, we might as well use these up. Who gets them?"

Abi lifted her hands and backed off. "I'll let you boys have the last of the fun," she volunteered.

"All right." Jim took one and Artie the other. "On three?"

"One…"

"Two…"

"Wait wait wait stop stop stop!" hollered Abi. Jim and Artie checked themselves, retaining the little bombs, and turned to the girl. "What's the matter?"

She pointed. "Look!"

Below them, just coming into view, was an eerie figure covered head to foot, including the face, in a shiny silvery suit with a large pair of tanks strapped to the figure's back. In its hand was something that vaguely resembled a rifle, but with a small flame dancing at the tip. The figure moved toward the foot of the rock they were standing on, tilted up its head and waved at them with its empty hand, then turned to face the field of glistening pink and brought up the barrel to point it at the myriad young land squids that yet remained. A soft click sounded, followed immediately by

**FWOOSH!**

Fire spat from the end of the barrel, roaring out to a span of maybe ten feet. The figure moved forward, sweeping the flame back and forth, incinerating all the jellyfish in its path.

Artie gave a whistle. "Look familiar?"

Jim nodded. "Something like the suits the spurious John Brown forced Miss Bosley to make for him, yes."

"Yeah. And it goes so well with the - what would you call that? a portable fire cannon?"

"It's a flamethrower," Abi observed. "So that's what he was looking for!"

From their high vantage, the trio watched as the man in the shiny suit destroyed the rest of the land squids. At last he shut down the flame and pulled off his mask. "Phew, it's hot in here!" the Doctor proclaimed. Turning to the group at the top of the rock, he asked, "Have I missed anything?"

Artie fished out the spyglass he'd been using earlier and scanned the area. "Nope, looks clear!" he called down.

"_Molto bene!_" the Doctor called back. And to the girl, "Time to go then, Abi."

She sighed. "Yes, Doctor."

Jim took up the saddlebags and settled the final extra bomb he'd had into one side, then accepted Artie's last bomb and placed it in the other side. He then glanced at his partner, standing with an arm already stealing round the girl's waist. "Coming, Artie?" he said.

"In a bit, Jim, yeah."

Jim's eyes shifted to Abi, catching and holding her gaze for a long moment. He crooked up an eyebrow, and she blushed, remembering - as no doubt he had intended her to - the conversation the two of them had had earlier. "Meet you at the TARDIS then, Artie. Miss Gordon." He touched the brim of his hat to her and walked on.

Artie frowned after his partner for a second. What had Jim been looking at the girl about? "Something wrong, Abi?"

She gave a laugh. "Wrong? No, nothing's wrong. Jim's just afraid I'll want to take you home with me, that's all." Her hand longed to sneak up and flick her nose, and she fought to restrain it.

Artie chuckled. "You know that's not going to happen, Abi. This is where I belong."

She nodded. "I know. I'll have to be content with the little video of you reciting from _The Tempest_." She tipped her head to the side. "I'm going to miss you."

"Well, I'm going to miss you as well, _chèrie_." He smiled down on her, then drew her into the circle of his arms and sweetly pressed his lips to hers.

...

The Doctor reached the TARDIS first and let himself in, stripping off both the flamethrower and the protective suit and tossing them aside. He pulled on his pinstriped jacket and shrugged into his overcoat, then stepped back outside. Mr West ought to be along shortly, though how soon Abi and Mr Gordon might follow was anybody's guess.

He heard the sound just as he shut the door behind him, the sound of a revolver being cocked. "Well, looky what we got here!" said a jovial voice.

Not again! thought the Doctor and turned to face the gunman.

The man with the gun had that same generic ruffian aspect as the defunct Mr Hansen: grubby, scruffy, seedy. His jaw was moving as he chewed on something; the Doctor was fairly certain it would not turn out to be chewing gum. Sure enough, the fellow spat something disgustingly brown at the ground, then grinned at him. "So where's the other one, huh?"

"Other one?" the Doctor inquired, deciding to play dumb.

"Yeah, yer partner!" said the gunman. "Here's you, and where's the other? Boss said there'd be two o' you. Which one's you, West or Gordon?"

The Doctor smiled at him as the gears churned away within his fertile brain. So - a "Boss" was looking to capture _Messieurs _West and Gordon, hmm? And obviously knew nothing of the travellers in the blue box. Who could this Boss be? and did this have something to do with the land squid? "My work here is apparently not done," the Doctor murmured to himself, then more loudly, "West or Gordon? You don't know?"

"Don't you get smart-alecky with me, fella!" growled the gunman. "Me an' Drury's got orders to take you to the Boss. And where's Hansen? He was s'posed to lure the two o' you into an ambush hours ago. What'd you do with him?"

"What did **we **do with him? Nothing," said the Doctor truthfully. Well, mostly truthfully. By the time the various bombs and the flamethrower had finished scouring the landscape of land squids, the husk of the former Hansen had no doubt been eradicated as well; he hadn't noticed. But of course by that time, Hansen himself had been long past caring, the poor fellow.

The gunman scowled and made a Let's go gesture with his revolver. "Don't matter none. The Boss'll get it all figgered out. You jes' come on now."

The Doctor lifted his hands and allowed himself to be led.

...

Jim arrived along the high ground overlooking the box canyon just as the gunman got the drop on the Doctor. Instantly the agent flattened himself to the ground, watching, trying to listen. When the gunman gestured with his weapon and the Doctor's hands went up, Jim decided it was time to act. His hand dipped into the saddlebags to fetch out one of the remaining bombs to create a diversion...

**Ka-click**.

Something round, metallic, and cold pressed to the side of his head, accompanied by a cackling laugh. "Well, if it ain't the famous Jim West!" said the voice. "Up you git, Mr West. An' you kin jes' hand over the saddle… Hey! Them's Bo Hansen's saddlebags! What you doin' with 'em, huh? Hansen was s'posed to draw you an' Gordon into an ambush, an' he never showed up. What'd you do to 'im?" And the gunman stepped back, leveling the gun.

"Me? Not a thing," West replied, coming to his feet and lifting his hands. This was in its own way true; he hadn't done anything to Hansen, though not from lack of trying.

The gunman glowered, then nodded toward the path down to the canyon floor. "Git on with you there, West. Me an' Mace're gonna haul you an' Gordon there off to see the Boss. He'll settle you jes' fine."

Jim turned and did as he was told, the gears in his brain meshing away. The Boss? Who might that be? And apparently this gunman had mistaken the Doctor for being Artie. Well. Let's just make sure there's a good trail for the real Artie to follow us, thought West, and in the meantime, we'll find out who this Boss is.

...

Having good-byed to their hearts' content, Artie and Abi were now making their way back to the TARDIS, he with her hand through the crook of his elbow, she with her cheek resting against his shoulder. It wasn't the most efficient way to walk, but neither was in much of a hurry. After a while they reached the cliff top that ran along the edge of the box canyon. And now Artie's steps slowed even more.

Abi looked up. "Something wrong?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "But there's something on the ground over there that doesn't seem to belong. Wait here."

He went over to inspect the incongruous object, hunkering down for a closer look. It was incongruous, yes, but familiar. "That's one of the sheets of Hansen's funny money," came Abi's voice.

He glanced up at her as she squatted down opposite him. "Abi my girl, do you never do as you're told?"

"Not when I'm told to stay behind, no." She nodded at the paper. "It's got a rock on it. That's so it won't blow away, right?"

"Yes," said he. "Now if you'd be quiet for a bit, I'd like to…"

"And it's all crinkly too. Isn't it one of those…?"

"…one of the sheets I used to wrap my little bombs in? Yes, Abi. It was in the saddlebags Jim was carrying. Why…" He frowned, his forefinger absently coming up to flick at his nose. "Why would Jim have anchored it here though? What is it about **here?**" He glanced about, then focused on the sets of footprints that had come and gone so much up here lately. Too many footprints really, but he thought - he was almost sure - that there was a set of boot prints visible that were neither his nor Jim's, and certainly not the trainers both the Doctor and Abi were wearing. Hmm.

"Come on, Abi. But stay behind me." And as she began to protest, he added, "Not to keep you out of harm's way, _chère cousine_, but to keep you from stepping on the tracks I want to examine. Come on."

They made their way along the cliff top, then descended the path and headed for the TARDIS, Artie keeping himself and the girl off to the side wherever possible so as not to step on the trail. Yes, those were definitely not his boots, and not Jim's either. So who else had been here?

They reached the TARDIS and now Artie spotted something that definitely didn't belong. And he pointed it out to Abi.

She frowned at the small icky splatter of brown in the dust. "What is that?"

"Something you'd expect to find in a cuspidor."

"A cusp… you mean a spittoon? You mean it's… Ew!"

He nodded. "Chaw. Somebody was here partaking of chewing tobacco. I'm fairly certain it wasn't Jim, nor was it likely the Doctor, am I right?" She grimaced and shuddered. "Therefore, undoubtedly somebody else was here." He glanced about. "Hmm… But where did they all go…?" He paused, regarding the big blue box. "You don't suppose Jim and the Doctor are inside the TARDIS, do you?" he said to the girl as he gave its door a push, then rattled the handle. "Locked," he said, and now he pounded on the door. "Doctor? Jim!"

No answer.

"No problem," said Abi. She fished in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a…

"Wait a minute!" said Artie. "You told me you didn't have anything else in your pockets!"

"Yeah? So?" She shot him a sharp look. "You were about to kiss me. I didn't want to put temptation in your way." And as he gaped, then glowered, she exhibited a perfectly ordinary-looking key. "The Doctor let me have this for just in case." She fitted the key into the lock, turned it, then pushed the door open. "Doctor?"

Artie was right behind her. "Jim?" he called. "Hey, Jim!"

Again there was no answer.

"Well," said Abi, pointing to the flamethrower and protective silver suit discarded near the entrance, "we know the Doctor was in here at least. But where he is now…"

Artie planted his fists on his hips and scowled as his eyes swept the console room. "You realize, Abi, if they are here in the TARDIS, they could be anywhere. But as long as they're out of earshot, how would we ever know?"

"Oh! I have an idea!" Abi took out her phone and brought up the app the Doctor had loaded into it. Into the Destination blank she typed "Doctor," then pressed OK.

A moment later the words "NOT FOUND" flashed up across the screen in bright red capitals. Frowning, she tried again, this time using the search term "James West."

Again the response of "NOT FOUND."

"Maybe it doesn't work for finding people, only places," said Artie.

"Hmm. Let's try this then," said Abi. Moving to the other side of the main console room, she now typed in the words "Artemus Gordon" and was rewarded with a map and an animated arrow pointing straight at him.

She came back and showed the phone to him. "Ah." He sighed. "All right, then they are unquestionably not in the TARDIS. In which case…"

"In which case…?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "In which case I suspect they've been captured, Abi, and taken away who-knows-where. Stay here. I'm going to…" His voice trailed off as she snerked, and he remembered what she had said on the cliff top about being left behind. "Oh. Right," said he. "Well then, come along if you must, Abi. But you're to do exactly what I tell you to. Agreed?"

With wide and guileless eyes, she said, "Agreed."

He shot her a sharp look. "Really? Then let me see your hands." And taking both of hers in both of his, he said, "Now. Promise me again, but this time without crossing your fingers."

She laughed. "Oh, you know me too well!"

"You're too much like me!" He held her hands, looking into her face. "As I told you before, Abi, I don't want you hurt."

"I don't want me hurt either," she responded. "Or you. I'll, uh… I'll obey you, Artemus. Except when I think it's better not too."

He rolled his eyes. "Insufferable…! All right then; let's go."

...

Artie led the way again, both of them avoiding treading on the tracks, as they followed them to the entrance of the box canyon.

"Ah! The trail heads off east. We haven't been this direction before. Here are the Doctor's trainers… Jim's boots… and… I'm going to say two other pairs of boots. Curious…"

"Just two?" said Abi.

He glanced at her. "Well, I believe you must be thinking the same thing I am. How could just two men capture Jim West without a fight? Unless…"

"Yes, Artemus?"

"Well, Jim does have this little quirk of walking into traps to see who set them. You know, until just now, we didn't know there was anyone else out here other than Hansen. And now there are two others at least." He shook his head thoughtfully. "You know, Abi, there was no way that Hansen was the brains of that counterfeiting operation. So he must have been working for someone else. But who? And now Jim's been taken. Where? To see Hansen's boss? Again, who could that be?"

"What are we going to do?"

He shrugged. "For now, we follow the trail wherever it leads."

On they went, heading still further east. Artie divided his attention between the tracks by their feet and the rock walls rising above their heads. At one point, he whispered to Abi, "If I were to set an ambush, this would be the place." And he drew his revolver as they passed through that area cautiously.

Nothing happened.

Not long after this, they rounded a curve in the current canyon, and their eyes lit on something at the foot of the right-hand rock wall. "Abi?" said Artie softly. "Isn't that…?"

She nodded. "The Doctor's sonic screwdriver." She started toward it, but Artie held her back. As she swung to stare at him, he mouthed to her, "Could be a trap."

He slipped ahead of her, continuing to follow the tracks while trying to keep his eyes peeled in all directions. And the footprints led them right to the sonic screwdriver.

"Should I…?" asked Abi, miming picking it up.

He spread a hand, indicating she should wait. He hunkered down, inspecting it, looking for anything attached to it. Now he stood up and drew Abi back around the last corner. He found a rock and juggled it in his hand for a bit, getting ready to lob it at the metal rod. Then he glanced at the girl and said, "Unless you'd rather throw it?"

She took the rock. "Why are we chucking a stone at it?"

"Just to knock it out of its position, in case it's booby trapped."

"Ah." She eyed the target, got ready, wound up, and let loose. Immediately Artie grabbed her and yanked her behind the corner, shielding her with his own body from any possible…

Nope. No blast. No nothing. Slowly they peeked out from behind the corner. There was the rock, and over there, the sonic screwdriver.

"Hope I didn't bust it," said Abi.

Artie walked out, nudged it with his toe, then picked it up. He looked it over. With a glance at Abi, he aimed it at the rock and thumbed the switch. The whine echoed off the surrounding rock walls for the second he had it on, in which time the rock he was pointing the sonic screwdriver at vibrated so violently, it shattered into a dozen pieces.

He turned it off and pocketed it. Grinning at Abi, he said, "Doesn't look like you hurt it. Now. Why is it here?" He waved a hand at the footprints. "They stop here. There's a certain amount of milling about. And then... Can you tell what happened?"

She pointed. "Well, that's the back half of a footprint. Where's the front half?"

"Ah, very good, Abi! Exactly. Somehow, this rock wall moved, admitting our friends and their two captors. Hmm. If they opened it from the outside, then one of the captors would have had to… Ah!" He followed a set of tracks off to the left. "He stood here, and…" Artie ran his hands lightly over the surface of the rock before him. "Oh!"

"What'd you find?"

"A soft spot. I think if I press it… Wait."

"Wait what?"

"If I press it now, we might alert someone on the inside to our presence. And I think before I go in - all right, before **we **go in - we should transform ourselves into somebody else."

"Oh! Such as?"

"Well. It's entirely possible that none of Hansen's confederates yet know of his demise."

"Oh, that sounds good. What about me?"

Artie took Abi's arm and started heading back toward the TARDIS and the magnificent wardrobe within. "Well… does the Doctor have a secretary?"

"No. He has companions."

"Ah," said Artie with a gleam in his eye. "But don't you think it's high time he did have one?"


	10. The Villain

**The Villain**

Perhaps half an hour earlier, as the concealed door was being closed behind them, Jim leaned toward the Doctor and inquired softly, "Did you mean to do that?"

"Drop my sonic screwdriver?" the Doctor returned. "Of course not!"

"Then what did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was going to…"

"Hey! You two shut up an' git movin'!" Mace and Drury brandished their guns, herding the pair ahead of them down a long dark corridor.

Except that suddenly it wasn't as dark anymore. As they walked, the candles in the sconces along the walls sprang into life, only to go dark again after they passed.

Jim glanced at the lights. "Someone's trying to impress us."

"Someone's succeeding."

"Oh?"

The Doctor nodded. "There's no mechanism that I've been able to discern to account for the lights. They seem to be perfectly ordinary candles. If I could examine them, of course, I might find some explanation as to how they are igniting and then extinguishing themselves, but on the face of it so far, I would say…"

"Shut up!"

"Ah… No, actually I wouldn't have said **that**…"

Mace - unless it was Drury - gave the Doctor a hard shove in the back. "Shut up an' keep movin', Gordon!"

The Doctor gave Jim a sidelong look and a bit of a shrug. If the gunmen wanted to think he was Mr Gordon, he was willing to continue to go along with it. And so, apparently, was Mr West.

They came at length to a door. One of the gunmen opened it and the two captives were propelled inside. "My!" said the Doctor. "Somewhat more upscale than I had expected for an underground den in the desert!"

That was an understatement. They were standing in a gorgeous parlor with red flocked wallpaper and Louis Quinze furniture. A harpsichord flanked by a harp stood off to one side. In the corner was a tall lacquered cabinet, elaborately inlaid. A crystal chandelier depended from the ceiling, throwing lozenges of light over the walls and all things within them - including some exquisite paintings, busts, ceramics and other expensive curiosa. Jim and the Doctor exchanged glances. How on earth had all this finery come to be here in an underground lair?

"Siddown," one of the gunmen ordered, then said to his compadre, "You watch 'em while I go tell the Boss we got 'em."

"Sure, Mace," said the other. And as Mace left through the far door, Drury waved his gun at Jim and the Doctor, saying, "There. That little settee there. And keep yer hands where I kin see 'em!"

The two sat. West's eyes roamed the room, taking in all the details, making mental notes of all potential escape routes - including the air vent up by the ceiling above the cabinet - and all potential weapons. The Doctor too was checking out the room when a sudden movement drew his and West's attention back to their captor.

Drury, who had been carrying the saddlebags he'd confiscated from West all this time, now shrugged them off his shoulder and shook them at the pair on the settee. "Aw right, you two. Now yer gonna fess up. Jes' what'd you do to Bo Hansen? You stole these here saddlebags from him…" And he shook the bags at the men again, then started to slap them down emphatically onto the nearest table.

He never finished the gesture. West boiled up from the settee and snatched the bags from Drury with one hand while with the other cracking the gunman a single blow across the chops that sent the man to the floor out cold.

The Doctor leapt to his feet as well. "My word, Mr West! What did you do that for?"

West fished into one side of the bags and pulled out a familiar object. "We had two of Artie's little bombs left and I put them in here," he explained. He pocketed that one, then produced the second from the other side of the bag. He was about to pocket it as well when the Doctor held out his hand, so Jim passed it to him. He dropped the saddlebags now and glanced round the room. "This'll do," he said and, picking up the comatose Drury, Jim hauled him over to the lacquered cabinet and quickly shoved him inside.

"How do we account for his absence once Mr Mace returns with the Boss?"

Jim shrugged. "He wandered off." Glancing up at the cabinet, Jim gathered himself, then sprang up and caught the top edge of it. Lithesome as a cat, he swung himself up onto the tall piece of furniture and set about studying the covering of the air vent.

"And may I ask what you're doing now?" the Doctor inquired. "I had assumed you wished to meet the big boss. Isn't that why you permitted yourself to be captured?"

"Sure I want to meet him," said West. "But on my own terms. I'd prefer to eavesdrop from inside this vent first." He plucked the knife from the back of his jacket collar and used it to remove the cover from the vent. "And what about you, Doctor? What do you have in mind?"

"Hmm. I suppose I might have me a bit of an explore," he replied. "Our friend Mace went out that door, so I'll just take my leave through the one we came in by…" He opened the door. "Ah. Or not."

Mace was in the doorway, blocking the Doctor's exit. The gunman came on in and pointed his weapon at the skinny wild-haired fellow, then called up, "Hey, West! 'Less you want me to perforate yer buddy Gordon here, I suggest you git yer hide back down here!"

"Except," said a silvery voice from behind Mace, "that man is not Mr Gordon." It was a regal voice, aristocratic, highly accented, and as rich as Corinthian leather. And familiar, so very familiar! Jim stared at the doorway as a tall and powerful figure stepped in and the light of the chandelier fell across his lordly features - the dark wavy hair and deep piercing eyes, the high forehead and pain-lined visage, the powerful arms and expressive hands - and the legs; the man was standing tall upon two perfectly functional legs. West remembered so well the last time he had seen this man: he had been lying on the floor, pinned under a large beam which had fallen across him after a Union artillery blast had hit his house, his noble face contorted in pain as he laughed and laughed over the twist of irony that had taken his beautiful legs from him.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Jim whispered. Then, louder, "Why imagine meeting you here, Colonel! I thought you were dead."

"As did I, Captain West, as did I. And in the extremity of my condition, I was magnanimous enough to set you and Mr Gordon free, returning you home again. But as you can see, circumstances have… changed. And so, my mind having changed as well, I set up this ruse of a counterfeiting ring by which to lure and trap you and Mr Gordon anew. Except that…" Now the man in the doorway turned to Mace and frowned. "You confidently proclaimed to me that you and Mr Drury had taken captive Mr West and Mr Gordon."

Nervously Mace said, "Well, well… yes sir, we did! Least ways, we thought we did. You, uh, sure this ain't Gordon?"

"Mr Mace! Let me assure you that the faces of James West and Artemus Gordon are indelibly printed across my mind's eye, both now and forever! As for you…" And the tall man struck a pose, his eyes cold, as he spread his hands... spread them wide…

He now clapped them. And Mace… vanished.

...

"Now remember - you **cannot** use the name of Gordon, since that might very well put them on the alert."

"Yes, yes, you keep telling me that!"

"Good. And what name are you going to call yourself?"

"Abi Mackenzie, after my grandfather's middle name. Stop worrying, Artemus!"

"Stop worr… Abi, you know perfectly well that you are no actress."

"Yeah, I know. But at least in this case, me being nervous will be completely normal."

"Hmm - at least that. Now - never break character…"

"And never let down my guard. Right. Just let me make sure I've locked up the TARDIS properly…"

"Ok. And… well, Abi, here goes nothing."

"Or everything."

...

The Doctor started and gave a low whistle. "Well now! That's an impressive trick! And where did Mr Mace go?"

The man before him gave a small smile. "But Captain West! You have not introduced us."

"Ah… Of course," said Jim. He vaulted down from his perch atop the cabinet. "Colonel," he said as he crossed the room to where the two others stood, "what you and your men were apparently not aware of is that Mr Gordon retired from field work about a month ago. This man is my new partner, Dr John Smith."

"Ah, **retired**," said the regal man, nodding, his dark and flashing eyes fixed on West's.

"Yes," replied West evenly. "And, Doctor, this is that old acquaintance of mine about whom you have heard so much: Colonel Noel Bartley Vautrain."

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Colonel Vautrain! What a pleasure to meet you! I have so much to ask you! Starting with: what did you do to Mr Mace?"

"And I might ask you what you have done with Mr Drury, hmm?"

"Just put him on ice for a while, Colonel," West replied with a small smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Did you? In fact, that is very likely for the best. As for Mr Mace, he is, ah, on ice in a different manner. So to speak." Vautrain's attention returned to the Doctor. "But how curious I find this, Captain West! I was not aware that the American Secret Service would accept as agents men who are, ah... foreigners."

"Exchange program," blurted the Doctor quickly. "I come over here, someone else goes over there. You know."

"Indeed, I do know, my dear Doctor. I know very well. Very, **very **well." Vautrain folded his arms, cupping one elbow as he rubbed at his chin and studied the Doctor briefly. Then, turning to West, he said, "But surely you and your, ah, new partner are parched from this desert climate, my dear Captain. Let us have some..." Vautrain bowed his head, drew in a deep breath, then abruptly sprang open the fingers of both hands. Instantly a table appeared before them, covered with a fine damask cloth and set with an elegant cut-glass carafe and three glasses.

"...refreshments," Vautrain concluded. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a heavy sigh, then waved a hand at the table. "Gentlemen?"

The host poured, and the guests accepted the libations. "I should like to drink, dear friends," said Vautrain, and paused dramatically, "…to Time. Time, which wounds all, heals all, changes all... avenges all."

Jim took a brief delay between lifting the glass to his lips and drinking from it. For one thing, he wanted to take in the aroma first, lest it perhaps have the bouquet of bitter almonds. And for another - Vautrain's demeanor toward the Doctor was odd. Why was that? West wondered.

"But I'm sure," said Vautrain after savoring a sip of his wine, "that you have many questions for me, Captain West. Chief among them being the one with which you greeted me: how is it that I live? Is this not so, Captain?"

West nodded. "Of course, Colonel."

"And you, Doctor. Surely if Mr West has regaled you with the tale of our former meeting - and he has already indicated that this is the case - then you too know that when Mr West - and his former partner, of course - last left me, it was for dead." He smiled urbanely, even as his voice spat out that final word as if it were a curse.

"We left you at your insistence, Colonel," said West.

"To be sure, to be sure," said Vautrain easily. "Seeing my vengeance had turned as a serpent to bite me, I did in fact urge you to take your injured companion and depart." The Colonel stood for a moment, his hypnotic eyes focusing on the pains of that memory. "But then, you see, Captain, a most extraordinary thing happened - most extraordinary. As I lay there trapped beneath the beam of my own house, waiting for the explosives I had secreted within that house with which to assassinate General Grant to instead detonate and make an end of me, I began to hear… voices." His glittering eyes strayed to cast an amused glance toward the Doctor before returning to West's face. "Voices were calling to me, as if from a great distance, Captain West. Have you any idea from whence they came?"

"None at all," said West.

"Why, they had the most curious origin, my dear West. The voices were coming from…" He reached into a pocket and produced a flat round object. "…this."

"Your pocket watch?" said West.

Vautrain smiled. "Or, as your friend Dr Smith no doubt would term it, my fob watch. Yes indeed, Mr West. My watch. Voices were emanating from it. One of them quite distinctly bade me to open it." He leaned close. "So I did. Do you know what happened next, Captain West?"

"No, Colonel."

"But you do, don't you, Doctor?" cried Vautrain, rounding on the lanky fellow. "You know precisely of which I am speaking - do you not?"

"I had some inkling from the moment you walked into the room. In fact I had already asked Mist… ah… someone earlier when I was being told the tale of Vautrain the time-traveller whether you might have owned a fob watch."

"And here it is," said Vautrain. "Why don't you explain to your partner Mr West what my possession of this innocent little watch implies?"

The Doctor looked at the Colonel for a long moment, then shrugged and turned to West. "You know already that I am a time-traveller. What perhaps has not been made clear to you as well is that I, well, I'm not from your Earth. I'm an alien - what the Colonel was hinting at when he spoke of me as being a foreigner. I come from a different planet, one far far older than this little Earth. My people, the Time Lords, on occasion have found it, oh, prudent to hide themselves in plain sight, so to speak, by genetically modifying themselves to be human. When we do that, we transfer our memories, our persona, our essence…" He pointed to Vautrain's fob watch. "…into that. It's an effective hiding place, but with the disconcerting side effect that one forgets who one was."

Vautrain nodded. "Ah yes! If I had not been in that state of forgetfulness, I assure you, Captain West, our prior meeting would have gone very differently. And I would not have let you and Mr Gordon go, not under any circumstance."

"Why?"

Vautrain smiled. "I sent you away, you will remember, because, having lost my beautiful legs for a second time, I lost with them my will to live. And with that, my taste for vengeance. And so I made the passage by which to return you and Mr Gordon to the time and place from which I had plucked us three. But when the voices in my fob watch urged me to open it, I did - and found immediately both will to live and taste for vengeance anew. For I remembered who and what I was, and knew that I had within myself the means to renew myself, to be reborn in physical perfection once again."

His smile might have been termed beatific if it weren't for the evil madness gleaming in his eyes. "And so I focused my mind once again, opening the passage to the place and time I had just sent you and Mr Gordon, and flung after you the deposit of smoldering ammunition so that, rather than it detonate and kill me, it should, so I hoped, compass **your** deaths instead. I learned of course later - much later - that that had not been the case…"

"I **had **always wondered why the house blew up," remarked Jim.

"…but at the moment I had other matters occupying my mind. I next caused the heavy beam to vanish from off my crushed and dying lower body. And then - as your friend the Doctor well knows - I was enveloped in a magnificent golden glow as my body healed and renewed itself. Regeneration!"

"Ah - hang on there!" interjected the Doctor. "If you regenerated, how is it that Mr West here recognized you, hmm? Why didn't you get a new face to go with that new body, eh?"

"Why, it's quite simple, my dear Doctor. I wasn't done with this face yet. I wanted Mr West and the regrettably absent Mr Gordon to recognize me when once we should meet again."

"Oh. Well. Suppose that makes sense. Go on then."

Vautrain inclined his head graciously. "There's little more to tell. My house was unusable to me, as my former self would be occupying it. And I had seven long years of waiting until after my previous interactions with my two worthy opponents had transpired before I could make their acquaintance once again. In the meantime, I came here, excavated this new home for myself, furnishing it in exquisite taste, as you can see. And while I was waiting, I amused myself with little diversions, hobbies if you will, based upon my newly recalled memories of my profession back home on Gallifrey."

"Which was?"

"Genetic engineer."

"Ah! So the land squid…" The Doctor gestured vaguely toward the great outdoors.

"Then you met my little pet! Yes, I poured quite a bit of time and energy into developing my… pardon me, did you call it a land squid? It is a Hydra, my dear Doctor!"

"Or was…" muttered the Doctor softly, ruffling his fingers through the back of his hair. "But there's something else I wanted to ask you about, Colonel. How did you come to be here on Earth, playing human? Hiding out from the Time War, were you?"

Vautrain cast a cold look upon him. "Impugn my honor and bravery at your own risk, Doctor! I am no coward! I had come here following, shall we say, my own agenda and knew nothing of the Time War until after I had come to myself once more and gradually pieced together what must have happened to our beloved home world."

"Your own agenda, you say? And that begs the next question: who are you?"

"I? You do not know?"

"Well… no, not really."

Vautrain fixed the Doctor with his electric eyes and proclaimed, "I, my dear sir, am none other than Professor Harlequin!"

"Har… Harlequin!" cried the Doctor, a look of disgust on his face. "What? Mad Harlequin? The professor who was doing that brilliant cloning research, only to throw it all over to hound that poor lad? You nearly killed his mother, you know. And they clapped you in a loony bin for it!"

In a fury, Vautrain rejoined, "That 'poor lad' as you termed him murdered my wife!"

"Murder! That's a strong term for a laboratory accident. The apparatus blew up. Your wife was the instructor - the inquest team interviewed all the students - every one of them said she died heroically trying to quell the reaction before ordering them all to run - and the last thing she did was turn to the student closest to her and knock him to the floor just as everything exploded. If she hadn't…"

"If she hadn't, he would have died rather than she! He should have died! I tracked him to this blighted planet after I made my escape from that accursed mental ward. And one day - mark my words! - I shall find him again and do to him as he did to me. He bereaved me of my wife and our unborn child!" Vautrain was in a towering rage now, eyes glittering, face twisting. Suddenly he regained control of himself, pulled the hem of his elegant vest down straight, threw his chin up, and said, "But first I shall deal with Mr West and his new-found partner, hmm? I had in mind, my dear West, to take you and Mr Gordon far into the misty past and strand you there, looking in on you now and again, manipulating the circumstances you would find yourself in, amusing myself as a cat with a pair of very lively mice. But as Mr Gordon disappointingly is not here, I shall have to amend my plans. For now…" He spread his hands wide and clapped them.

And Mr Mace reappeared, wet from head to toe and smelling like a swamp.

Vautrain wrinkled his aristocratic nose and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. On the instant, Mace was dry again, his former aroma banished as well.

Again Vautrain clapped his hands, and now Mr Drury stood before them as well, his eyes bleary, his jaw purple and swollen. "Ow…" muttered Drury, then fixed his eyes on West with cold hatred.

Once more Vautrain clapped his hands. And this time - nothing happened. He frowned. Taking his stance again, he concentrated, then clapped again. And again nothing. "Curious," he told himself, glancing at his hands. "Where is Mr Hansen? Ah well, no matter. Mr Mace, Mr Drury, if you would take charge of our guests here and convey them to the holding cell…"

Just at that moment the door behind Vautrain sprang open and a girl was thrust through it. She all but fell; if not for Vautrain's quick reflexes in catching her, she would have sprawled full length on the oriental carpet.

"And where have you come from?" said Vautrain in surprise.

A well-mimicked voice replied from the doorway behind him. "Why, I done foun' that little filly out there in the desert, I did, an' figgered she might jes' lead us to West an' Gordon. 'Stead, she done led me on a wild goose chase all up an' down ever' canyon of the backside o' creation, so she did!"

Vautrain barely spared a glance at the scruffy character standing in the doorway. "You were not hired, Mr Hansen, to 'chase fillies,' as you put it, but to find Mr West and Mr Gordon. And as Captain West is here, and Mr Gordon apparently is retired, your services to me are nearly at their end. Still," he added, turning his full attention to the girl, "you have made a delightful discovery." Now Vautrain smiled, turning up the charm. "And what is your name, my dear?"

"Abi Go…" She winced and closed her eyes. Already she had messed up and nearly said exactly what Artemus had told her not to! Fluttering her eyes open again, she murmured in dismay, "Oh dear - so many guns! Doctor!" She squirmed free of Vautrain's grasp and flung herself into the Doctor's arms.

"Stop overacting," he whispered in her ear. At the same moment, she slipped a useful item into his hand, whispering back, "You lost this." But that was all the time they had to exchange anything before Vautrain reclaimed her.

"I was requesting your name, my dear young lady," he insisted, his charm beginning to slip.

"Abi, uh…" Great, now she would have to account for the first part of her last name that she'd blurted out earlier. With a flick to her nose, she made an extreme sacrifice and corrected herself to, "Abi**gail**, that is. Abigail Mackenzie. I'm the Doctor's secretary."

"Companion," the Doctor was saying at the same moment.

"Secretary!" she declared.

"Ah. Secretary-companion," the Doctor amended. "Takes dictation. Does the typing. That sort of thing."

"I see," said Vautrain, eyes narrowing. "So it seems now that, not only does the American Secret Service accept foreign-exchange agents, but such agents have their own secretaries? Is that correct?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," said the Doctor. "Can't get a decent cuppa over here on this side of the pond, you know. Well," he added, rubbing at the back of his neck, "not that Abi's all that capable of brewing tea properly either, but she does make a go of it. Only have to remind her twice to fetch out the milk most days. Well, and of course when she takes dictation, she does tend to misspell certain words, leaving out the U's, that sort of thing…" He babbled on, drawing all eyes to himself, having realized that the impossible Hansen in the doorway must of course be Mr Gordon, and having also made note of the way the two agents were managing to silently communicate with each other. Something was about to occur, and if the Doctor could distract Vautrain and his minions in the meantime, all the better, he reasoned. "It is a bit disconcerting, I must say, her system of filing things. Keep finding, oh, the adjustable spanner filed under M for monkey wrench, and…"

"Enough!" roared Vautrain. "Such verbosity cries out for a…" He gathered his focus, then flung out a hand. "…a muzzle!"

"Mrph!" objected the Doctor as a device of straps and buckles appeared suddenly surrounding his face.

Vautrain's face went slightly ashen from his recent exertions and he paused briefly to recover before continuing with, "And now, you my men will carry out my previous orders and conduct these two gentlemen off to their quarters."

"A few minutes ago you called it a holding cell," said West as Mace grabbed him by the arm.

Scrabbling the buckles of the muzzle loose, the Doctor gasped out, "And Abi comes with me!"

"_Au contraire_, my dear Doctor," said Vautrain, trailing the fingers of one hand over Abi's cheek, his other hand locked about her wrist in an iron grip, even as the girl grimaced and leaned away from him. "Miss Mackenzie shall be remaining with me, that we may become, ah, better acquainted. Won't you enjoy that, my dear Miss Mackenzie? Or is it perhaps… Miss Gordon?"

Abi gaped. "Wha…? What did you call me?"

Vautrain smiled exquisitely. "Ah, my dear young lady, what a thing habit is! Once upon a time, not so very long ago, I knew a man who had a habit of tapping the underside of his nose. Never have I met anyone else with that same mannerism - until you used it just now, my dear. Obviously you must have some connection with the absent Mr Gordon. All that remains is for me to discern precisely what that connection is…"

Dropping her eyes, Abi admitted, "Cousin - distant cousin, that is."

Vautrain shook his head, that infuriatingly pleased smile still on his handsome face. "Oh but not distant enough, my dear! I lured Mr West into my hands with a set of counterfeiting plates, but the bait for Mr Gordon - shall be you." And to his men, the Colonel said, "Remove them."

In the next moment, several things happened all at once.

Mace gave West's arm a yank, saying, "Come along" - and West came along so willingly that his elbow slammed into Mace's ribs, sending the minion into the refreshment table, which promptly disintegrated under him.

The Doctor, as Drury was reaching for his arm, switched on the sonic screwdriver and shone it into the gunman's face, temporarily blinding him just as he had done to Hansen previously.

From behind Vautrain's back a voice called out, "Five!" And as the Colonel pivoted to discover the source of that strangely familiar voice, Abi remembered her little stage fencing lesson from a few hours earlier and instantly wrenched her wrist into position five, breaking Vautrain's grip on her.

Well, she then also hiked the skirt of her period costume, exposing her blue jeans-clad legs long enough to give Vautrain a swift kick in the knee.

"Run!" cried the Doctor, shoving the squinting Drury into the reeling Vautrain. "This way!" Artie added as he directed Jim, Abi, and the Doctor back the way they'd all come in. Artie paused just long enough to slam the door shut behind them and block it from opening again by shoving against it a trunk he'd found in the hallway and dragged down here before sending Abi into the room. "Go!" he now hollered and the four of them tore up the corridor for the entrance.

"Ah!" the Doctor commented as the lights winked on then off again as they passed, "at least I've solved the mystery of these candles!"

"Like it matters?" called the girl.

"Never lose your sense of curiosity, Abi!" he countered, adding, "Electronic eyes. I wasn't taking into account the possibility of another time-traveller being present."

"Just run!" said Artie.

Jim was the only one of the four not talking as they ran. He accordingly reached the wall that had moved to admit them well ahead of the rest and immediately began feeling for a switch. "How do we get out?" he asked pragmatically.

"Allow me," said the Doctor, wielding the sonic screwdriver. He swept it back and forth till abruptly the wall began to swing open, And as it did, a peculiar wheezing sound filled the air, competing with the electronic device's usual whine.

"What's that?" said Artie.

"Doctor?" said Abi.

"How did that get there?" said Jim.

For just outside the exit, standing on the desert sands where nothing had been earlier, was the tall lacquered cabinet. And as the four watched, its door popped open and out came Vautrain and Mace - and after a pause, the still-squinting Drury as well.


	11. The Fight

**The Fight**

"We meet again!" said Vautrain cheerfully. "Mr West. Doctor. Miss Gordon. And I shall presume Mr Gordon has joined us as well, as the counterfeit of Mr Hansen. What a fortuitous reunion!"

"Wait," said Gordon. "So Vautrain's got a…"

"…TARDIS as well, yes," said the Doctor.

"So you're telling me he's a…"

"…Time Lord like the Doctor. Yeah," said Jim.

"Oh, well isn't this jolly!" said Artie.

"Get them!" Vautrain ordered his men. "But don't kill them; I reserve that pleasure for myself. Just… get them. Ah, and the girl is mine."

Mace in a fury charged at West, who dropped onto his back as the minion grabbed his shoulders, then rolled using a foot to Mace's gut to flip the man over and send him sprawling into the sand.

Meanwhile, Drury shaded his eyes and called out, "Which way? Point me at 'em!"

"Right here!" called Artie obligingly, luring Drury here and there with his voice until the minion's eyes at last cleared enough for him to focus on his tormentor. "I got you now!" proclaimed Drury and rushed at Gordon.

Artie sidestepped, revealing that directly behind him was a sheer rock wall into which Drury, unable to stop himself in time, cast himself headfirst.

"Yep. You got me now," said Gordon to the inert Drury.

West and Mace came to their feet again and circled each other, probing for an opening. Suddenly Mace's eyes flicked to something behind West and widened. Realizing that someone was back there, West snagged Mace by the arm and spun around, hurling the man bodily into the second attacker.

Who was Mace! How…?

The two Maces scrambled up from the ground, eyed each other for a moment, then grinned and turned to West. As each Mace grabbed an arm, a third Mace came striding up and drove a fist into West's middle.

Vautrain was standing in front of the lacquered cabinet, head bowed, sweat popping out on his forehead as he focused deeply. And every ten seconds from the door of the cabinet came forth another Mace, each man pausing a moment in the doorway to get his bearings before spotting West and rushing in eagerly to join the fray.

"How is that happening?" Abi whispered to the Doctor.

"He's a Time Lord, like I am."

"Can you do that too?"

"Not the same way he is... Quickly, Abi, while Vautrain is distracted, run! Get back to the TARDIS - now!"

"I'm not afraid, Doctor!" she retorted.

"Really? Then obviously you're not grasping the situation fully. Don't you recall what Mr Gordon told us of Vautrain's powers? Don't you remember the muzzle?"

"Uh… yes…"

"Good. Then run!"

Apparently Abi decided this was the most appropriate action after all, for she hitched up all those long skirts and pelted off for the TARDIS.

Meanwhile, West was now in the midst of a crowd of well over a dozen Maces, slugging it out with them, sending one Mace into another, tripping this Mace, getting clobbered by that Mace, finding himself at the bottom of a heap of Maces and boiling up from under them, scattering four or five Maces in as many directions, only to be grabbed by three more Maces.

Artie, having finished his little run-in with Drury, turned to see the mob of Maces piling onto Jim. He blinked and shook his head. What? How was that possible?

But never mind how it was possible; how was he going to help his partner - that was the question. Pulling a small orb of knock-out gas from a pocket, Artie cried out, "Jim!" then flung the little sphere at the throng.

Jim instantly filled his lungs and held his breath, anticipating what was about to happen. FOOM! A lovely cloud of chartreuse gas roiled out of the broken sphere and began to envelop them all. One by one, the Maces began dropping like flies.

And in front of the cabinet, Vautrain looked up, the parade of new Maces suddenly ending. Instantly the Colonel bowed his head once more, then made a spiraling gesture with one hand. Immediately the air around West and the Maces swirled into a small whirlwind, every bit of the colorful gas being pulled up into that vortex. Vautrain then looked about, spotted Gordon, and smiled. "I have you, I suppose, to thank for that little intervention, hmm? What a pity that I must return it to the sender!"

Vautrain pointed and the vortex of spinning gas flew straight as an arrow at Gordon, encircling him, engulfing him. Flabbergasted, Artie tried to catch and hold his breath in time, but it all happened too swiftly. Down went Mr Gordon.

"Hoist by his own petard," intoned Vautrain and chuckled. His head bowed now in fatigue, but he shook it off and turned his attention back to West. Quickly renewing his focus, Vautrain lifted his hands. In response all the fallen Maces stood up on their feet again, ready to fight once more. And moments later yet another new Mace appeared from the open cabinet door and raced at West.

"That's quite enough, Harlequin!" came a voice suddenly. It was the Doctor, his sonic screwdriver in his hand. Pointing the device at the other Time Lord, the Doctor proclaimed, "This ends, and it ends now!"

"Oh, I quite agree, Doctor," Vautrain smiled in return. His eyes hardened instantly into intense concentration - and suddenly the Doctor found himself to be empty-handed.

"What?" said the Doctor. "Hey! Give that back!"

For the sonic screwdriver was now in the Colonel's hand. He turned it about, inspecting it, then sighed. "Ah. I find this little item so very tiresome, Doctor." Vautrain blew on the sonic screwdriver and it vanished. And as the Doctor stared at him in consternation, Vautrain gave a superior smile and inquired, "Have you anything else in your pockets?"

With Vautrain's attention elsewhere and the proliferation of Maces ended, West continued fighting the remainder, knocking them out one Mace at a time until at last none remained standing. Jim then hurried to check on Artie. Reassured that his partner was fine if unconscious, West now regarded the smug Colonel as he turned the problem over in his head. The difficulty about Vautrain, of course, was that as long as the man was able to focus his attention, to fight him was not much different from trying to fight a god - a deeply unstable god. At the moment, the Doctor had Vautrain's attention, so now it was West's turn to make a move. Unobtrusively, he slipped around behind Vautrain to wait for his moment.

Keeping his eyes locked on Vautrain's so as not to give Mr West's actions away, the Doctor suddenly smiled and inquired, "By the by, what ever became of that land squid you were telling us of?"

"My Hydra," the Colonel corrected him pointedly, "is, even as we speak, hidden in the sands behind the small shack I gave Mr Hansen to use in printing up the counterfeit money." He paused and frowned. "But what became of Mr Hansen? He should have appeared along with Mr Mace and Mr Drury when I clapped for them."

"What happened to Mr Hansen?" The Doctor arched his eyebrows. "Why, your land squid happened to him!"

"Happened? I do not quite grasp your meaning, Doctor."

"Ah. I'll make it more clear then: the land squid ate him."

"My Hydra! But that's incredible. Why would she do that?"

"Why should she… Well, how should I know? You made the thing!"

And now, from about an arm's length behind the Colonel, Mr West sprang, wrapping one arm around Vautrain's powerful chest while his other hand felt quickly for the pressure point in the man's throat to knock him out in an instant.

That instant was not to be. Vautrain threw off West, and before the agent could regain his feet, Vautrain focused his mind on him. Suddenly Mr West found himself being lifted bodily into the air as if by unseen hands.

"Ah!" said the Colonel, his eyes glittering, "And now what shall I do with the incomparable Captain James T West? You do realize, of course, how fitting a punishment it would be - fitting, yes, and lingering - for me to conjure up tourniquets about your legs, just below the knees. And I may yet do so; oh yes, indeed I may. Or I might convince Mr Gordon anew that he is Jack Maitland, grievously insulted by your boorish self, and let his blade work my vengeance for me. But for the moment…" He gave a sudden gesture and West went flying to slam into the nearest rock wall. He bounced off and landed hard on the ground, all the wind knocked out of him. Even so, Jim struggled valiantly to get upright again before he slowly sank down to his knees and ceased to stir.

Now Vautrain turned again his attention to the Doctor. "As for you, you have grown tedious. You obviously knew what Mr West was doing, and worked to keep me oblivious with your endless chatter. And so, my dear Doctor," said Vautrain coldly, as he brought his powerful intellect to bear upon his fellow Time Lord, "once again I tell you: Be muzzled!"

Instantly the Doctor's face was enveloped in a new set of straps and buckles, cutting off any possibility of speech. Only this time, the muzzle also had a nice big lock on it.

"Much better," said Vautrain. He glanced about, saw the numerous Maces scattered on the ground, and frowned. "Ah, but these men of mine - how useless they have proven themselves to be!" Focusing strongly, he gave a dismissive wave of his left hand. All the many Maces vanished. A similar wave of his right, and Drury too was gone. The Colonel paused now, passing a hand over his face, looking for a moment drained. But that moment passed and he looked about again, taking in his captives.

He smiled. "And so, gentlemen, it comes down to us. I need only make up my mind what best to do with the three of you..." He stopped abruptly, and his eyes widened. "**Three **of you! But wait! Why, someone is missing! You were hoping I would forget about the charming young lady, were you not, Doctor? But I assure you, my dear friend, I have far too good a memory to ever forget anything. Ever." And Vautrain again bowed his head.

...

Abi was running the best she could in those infernal skirts. She had passed through the area Artemus had thought would make an excellent point for an ambush, continued on to the place where the footprints had angled off to the east, and was now racing for all she was worth across the box canyon, almost to the TARDIS. If only she knew how to fly the time machine, she was thinking, then she could show up back where the Doctor and Artemus and Jim were and give that nasty Vautrain dude a big surprise. She slowed slightly so that she could fish the TARDIS key from the pocket of her jeans. There! Now on she ran. Only a few yards now, and she would…

Abi faltered. That wasn't the TARDIS! It was the right height and shape; that was true. But instead of a blue police box, the thing she found directly in front of her now was a lacquered cabinet. **That **lacquered cabinet!

"How good of you to join us again, my dear," said a voice she really did not want to hear.

Abi stopped dead in her tracks and took in the scene before her. Artemus was lying off to her right and not moving. Jim was more or less straight in front of her, crumpled at the foot of a rock wall. And the Doctor was still almost exactly where she had last seen him, with a muzzle around his face again.

And of course, in the center, standing in front of that other big box, the light from its open door illumining his features - there was Vautrain.

"How'd you do that?" said Abi warily.

Vautrain smiled at her. "I wanted you here, and so you **are **here, my dear. How rude of you to have disappeared on me in such a fashion! But that's rectified now. You are here, and now…" His eyes darkened hypnotically as he held out a hand, beckoning. "Now you will come here to me."

Abi took stock of it all: Artemus was plainly out of commission, and Jim nearly so. The Doctor was for some reason missing his sonic screwdriver, and because of that muzzle, his other best weapon, his mouth, was useless as well. It was all, she realized with horror, up to her now. And she was frozen with fear.

The incident with the rattlesnakes flooded into her mind. She had been frozen then as well, but at the urging of a man who had yet been a stranger to her, she had found the will to move. And now Vautrain was in a similar pose, hand held out to her, bidding her to come to him. Swallowing down any signs that she'd rather gag, she forced her legs into motion, shortening the distance between herself and that charming but nasty man. Closer… yet closer still… All right, this was close enough. Snagging up the skirts, she drew back a leg to nail him with another kick.

But as her heel flew back, suddenly something grabbed her ankle, flipping her into the air, those dreadful skirts all but smothering her as they rained down around her head. She fought her way through them, so grateful she had chosen to wear her jeans underneath - and as she struggled in her up-ended posture, Abi failed to notice that a small item fell from her and landed on the ground.

Abi did not notice, but Vautrain did. It took but a second's concentration to call the item to his hand. He instantly pocketed it to investigate later.

Now the girl's face emerged from the yards of crinoline and wool, only for Abi to find herself nose-to-nose with Vautrain. A glance at her feet revealed to her what she had suspected: she was being held up in mid-air by nothing. "What did you do?" she fumed.

Vautrain smiled. "Really, my dear, did you truly expect me to permit you to kick me in the knee for a second time?"

Abi glowered as she informed him, "This time I wasn't aiming for your knee."

It took a moment for the sense of that to sink in. Then his eyebrows arched. "Why you vicious little hellion!"

"Yeah? I'm vicious? I'm not the one threatening to kill people!"

"But, my dear Miss Gordon! I make no threats," said Vautrain spreading his hands. "Not a threat but a promise: I shall indeed kill you all, one by one, beginning with you. However," he added, "we do not yet have the attention of all of our audience, do we?"

Stretching out one hand toward Abi to maintain her in that position, Vautrain made a slow turn toward the comatose Artemus. "It would hardly do," the Colonel commented, "for you to die, my dear, without your, ah, distant cousin being fully aware of your every pain, your every scream, your every plea for your life to be spared. It shan't be spared, of course, but I assure you, you shall indeed scream and beg and plead. As shall you all." His eyes swept over the Doctor, whose own eyes were smoldering with rage, and over West as well, who was sitting up leaning weakly against the rock wall. And so on to Gordon.

"Wake up, Mr Gordon," called Vautrain cordially. "Time to arise from your slumbers." Concentrating deeply, the mad Time Lord spun time itself backward for Mr Gordon. Artie unfell, unreeled, unswayed, unbreathed the knock-out gas. The chartreuse cloud unenveloped him, drew away from him, then swirled up high into the air and dissipated harmlessly.

Artie stood for a moment, stunned, trying to sort things out. "Wha… what happened?"

"Much!" laughed Vautrain. "And much more is yet to come. First of all, you gentlemen shall be privileged to witness the death of the young lady here." He turned back toward the girl and…

WHAP! Her hand flew out and slapped Vautrain hard across the cheek.

This was the moment for which the Doctor had been holding himself in check, waiting. The slap had plainly shattered Vautrain's focus, if only for a split-second, for the Colonel lost his mental grip on the girl; she fell with a yelp face first into the sand. In that same instant, the Doctor snatched from the pocket of his overcoat something he'd tucked into it back on the Wanderer: one of Abi's cowboy boots. This he flung at Vautrain with all his might.

Vautrain's eyes had reflexively winced shut when the girl's hand had made stinging contact with his cheek. His eyes now flew open again, his mind intent on what he would do to Miss Gordon. The peripheral sight of a cute bright red cowboy boot flying toward his head made no sense to him at first, and he turned to face it, trying to puzzle it out. Of course by the time it did make sense…

Ow! His hands flew up to cover his nose; it was broken!

And now it turned out that not only had the Doctor been playing powerless, awaiting an opportune moment, but Jim West had been playing possum as well. He now surged to his feet, his hand in one fluid motion taking something from a pocket and, like the Doctor a moment earlier, throwing it at Vautrain.

Well, not exactly **at **Vautrain, but beyond him instead. A little glass bauble, one of the two left over from firebombing the land squid, rocketed past the injured Vautrain and in through the open door of the cabinet behind him. There was a glorious fireball within, followed by a secondary explosion, then a tertiary one.

"My TT capsule!" bellowed Vautrain. He bolted toward it, leaping inside just before yet another explosion blew the door shut behind him. Moments later, even as the Doctor screamed within the muzzle a very audible "No!" a wheezing sound filled the air as the lacquered cabinet began to fade in and out before disappearing entirely.

And there was silence.

It took a few moments for the sudden lack of Vautrain to completely sink in. Jim moved first, going over to check on his partner. Once he and Artie had assured each other that they were fine, West then plucked the lock pick from beneath his lapel and went to release the Doctor from his prison of speechlessness.

Artie, meanwhile, crossed to the girl and offered her a hand up. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I've been better. You?"

"I'm fine." He unknotted the bandanna from around his neck and wiped gently at the minor abrasions across her cheeks, nose, and forehead.

And now, the moment Jim had the lock open, the Doctor snatched that infernal muzzle off and threw it from him in a rage. "Daft!" he shouted. "The fellow's daft! Going off with his TARDIS blowing up like that? I only hope **I'm **never daft enough to try to fly a TARDIS that is exploding all about me!"

"Do you think he'll die?" asked Abi.

"If he does, it'll be on his own head," the Doctor continued to fulminate as he bent to pick up the cowboy boot and stuff it back into his pocket. "And why is it," he went on, "that the only Time Lords who seem to have managed to survive the Last Great Time War are the barmy ones? Hmm? Couldn't a decent one like, oh, Romana have come through it, hidden away somewhere that I haven't spotted them yet? Oh, but no! It's all the megalomaniacal ones with vast plans of vengeance. Ha!" And he stomped off toward the TARDIS, his fury still spilling from his mouth the whole way there.

"I suppose that's what happens when someone slaps a muzzle on the Doctor," said Artie to Jim.

"Yeah. He has to make up for the lost talking time as soon as possible," Jim replied. With Abi on Artie's arm, the three set out to follow the unhappy Time Lord.


	12. The Con

**The Con**

And now it was time for the Doctor and his companion to go. Jim headed off to the stables to collect the two horses, while Artie and Abi went to the wardrobe to return their costumes. Once there, Artie disappeared behind the changing screen. As he finished getting dressed, he could hear muttering and grumbling coming from beyond the screen, and gradually getting louder.

"Abi? Something wrong?"

There was more muttering, then she called back crossly, "Yes! Stupid stupid buttons up the back of this stupid stupid dress!"

He chuckled as he came out from behind the screen, still carrying his boots. "Is that all?"

"All? What sadist came up with the brilliant idea that women's dresses should have buttons up the **back**?" She glared at him, her arms twisted up behind her back like a pair of pretzels.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, setting aside the boots.

"Please!" She turned her back to him and slung her arms out in relief. "I kept my own clothes on underneath this thing, by the way. All I need is to take it off."

He nodded as he worked. "Throw your shoulders back, please… That's better." He soon had the buttons undone and she stripped the dress off and for a second looked as if she would fling it to the floor. He took it from her and hung it up neatly, then glanced at her. "Abi? Before Jim or the Doctor come looking for us, let's talk."

She arched an eyebrow. "Talk? What about? We've, uh, pretty much said our good-byes already. Not that I would mind saying them all over again," she added with a twinkle in her eyes.

He took both her hands in his. "Abi, when we get back out to the main console room and the Doctor says it's time for him to take you home, I want - well, I want you to tell him, 'No.' "

" 'No'? But what do you mean? Why would I tell him…?"

"Abi," he interrupted. "I want you to stay."

She stared at him for a long time before whispering, "Stay? You want me to…?"

"Stay. Yes. Here, with me."

"But - but I can't!"

He gave her a puppy-dog look. "Don't you want to stay here with me, Abi?"

"It's not a matter of what I want, Artemus. The Doctor already made it very clear to me that I can't stay. And, and besides - there's my dad. He's going to come home to an empty house - and, oh man! I forgot to lock up! Empty house, huge crater in the peach orchard out back. No Bandy. No me. And no explanation. I can't do that to Dad."

"The Doctor could go to him and explain…"

"He won't. He won't agree to leaving me here; why would he do anything to help me stay? Besides, how would the explanation go? 'Ah, hullo, Mr Gordon. You don't know me, but I just took your daughter to the 1870's and left her there in the care of Artemus Gordon. Yes, the famous one.' You really think that's going to fly?"

Artie laid his hands on her waist and drew her close. "Abi," he said, "you're evading the question. Answer the question first, and afterwards we can work out the details of how to keep you here. But the question first: Abi, are you willing to stay here with me?"

"And… by 'stay here,' you mean…?"

He smiled the lop-sided smile of his. "Will you marry me, Abi?"

Her eyes went perfectly round, with just a hint of terror in them. This is what Jim had warned her about! "I…" she stammered. "I…"

He chuckled. "Simple question, simple answer. Yes or no."

"I… But… Oh! But, Artemus, do you love **me**?"

"You would be Abi Maude Gordon Gordon," he said.

"But do you love me?"

"And just think! We might very well produce a whole string of cute little brown-eyed double-Gordon babies!"

"But Artemus, now it's you evading the question. Do you love me?"

His face sobered and he looked into her eyes solemnly. "Yes," he said. And he wrapped her up close in his arms and kissed her.

It was a marvelous kiss, long and slow, warm and sweet. When it was over, she stood there in the circle of his arms for a very long time, her eyes closed, her lips parted, until at last Artie called her name. "Abi?"

She looked up at him then and smiled. "You liar," she said.

"Liar?" His eyebrows arched, a wounded look on his face. "Why, whatever makes you think I'm lying?"

"You told me yourself, back when I first confessed that I was in love with you, that you can't be in love with someone you've just met."

He snuggled her up close against him once more. "Well, perhaps you've changed my mind."

"It's possible," she admitted. "But I don't think it's very likely."

He smiled at her disarmingly. "And what conceivable reason could I have," he said, "for proposing marriage and claiming to love you, if I didn't mean it?"

"I don't know. But I know **you**. You're a consummate actor and a master spy - not to mention, a con artist - and you often do things you don't mean in order to gain something you want. I'm just not sure what you're after right now."

He chuckled softly and dropped his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. "Perhaps what I'm after, perhaps what I want," he purred into her ear, "is you, Abi."

"I wish I could believe that," she whispered back. She surrendered herself to his delicious touch for a while, then asked again, "Do you love me?"

And so they were back to that question anew. Artemus straightened and looked down into her wide and troubled eyes. And this time he sighed and told her the truth. "I like you, Abi."

"Then why would you want to marry me? Why would you want to marry anyone unless you loved her with all your heart and soul and being, with that grand mad passion of true love, the way that you lov…" She broke off abruptly.

"The way that I loved Lily? Is that what you were going to say?"

She dropped her eyes and nodded mutely.

"It's true. I did love Lily with a grand mad passion, as you put it. And I thought she loved me the same way. That's why I proposed to her. But she turned me down, and she's gone. And you - you're here, and you love me with that grand mad passion. Right? Maybe I don't feel toward you the way you feel toward me, but I think we could be happy together." He lifted a hand to press a stray lock of her hair back into place behind her ear, then stroked her cheek gently, caressing her face, cradling the line of her jaw in his palm. "I'm not getting any younger, Abi. I had that grand mad passion once, but she left me. And how many more chances am I likely to have to find a woman who loves me the way you do? The way she did?" He looked into her eyes, a touch of pain in his as he finished with, "I just don't want to wind up alone."

"But you won't wi…" Once again she broke off in the middle of a word. "That is, I… I don't want you to be cheated. Or me either. I want to marry a man who loves me every bit as wildly as I love him. And you - how would you feel if in a few months or a year or so, the perfect woman for you walks into your life, and there you are, stuck married to Abi?"

Slowly a smile spread across his face. "A few months or a year or so, hmm? And what you stopped yourself from saying was, 'But you won't wind up alone.' Isn't that right? Isn't that what you were about to say?"

She stared at him and her hand came up and flicked her nose. "Artemus, I wasn't supposed to…"

"Ha **ha**!" He burst out in rapturous laughter, grabbed her and swung her about in a full circle around him before setting her on her feet again, then planted a big joyous kiss squarely on her mouth. "Thank you!" he exclaimed. "That's exactly what I wanted to know!"

"But… but I didn't say…"

"Didn't you? You were wondering what I was up to, Abi. Well, this is it! You obviously know what the future holds for me. But there was no point in me asking you straight out; you wouldn't have answered me, now would you?"

She shook her head.

"No doubt the Doctor made you promise not to tell me about my future."

"No spoilers, right."

He nodded. "But you see, Abi, I know you. You hate to tell lies, and you hate to break promises. And I knew that if I put the right kind of pressure on you, forcing you into a conflict between telling a lie and breaking a promise, you would crack, and I would get my answer without me ever having to ask the question."

"So you proposed to me."

"Of course! If you knew I would be getting married in the future, you wouldn't be able to accept my proposal. All I had to do was keep adding a little more pressure and a little more pressure. And you cracked." He beamed with pleasure. "Lily's coming back!"

"It…" said Abi slowly, "it, uh, might not be Lily."

"True," said he. "But whoever she is, she and I will share that grand mad passion, or you wouldn't have mentioned it."

Abi looked up at him. "But Artemus, what would you have done if, when you proposed, I had accepted?"

He shrugged. "Then I would have known that there is no one in my future. So I would have gone ahead with making plans to marry you."

"You…" Her eyes sparkled. "You would?"

"Mm-hmm." He caressed her cheek again, then slipped his hand under her chin. "But, Abi," he said solemnly, shaking his head, "we both know that the Doctor would never have left you here with me."

"Oh. You're right," she sighed. She then looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "So you proposed to me, knowing that no matter which way I answered, you'd never actually marry me?"

"Mmm - yeah."

"Artemus Gordon, you're a rat. An absolute rat!"

"That's true. I certainly am!" And with a twinkle in his eye, he added, "And you still love me."

She laughed. "That's true. I certainly do." Grinning, she flung her arms around him for one last enthusiastic embrace.

He hugged her in return, then kissed her gently. "_Au revoir, chère cousine_," he said.

"_Adieu_, dear Artemus," she replied. Then, putting her mouth close to his ear, she whispered to him the three little words that she knew would make his heart dance with joy.

"It **is **Lily."

...

"Ah!" said the Doctor as the couple reappeared within the main console room. "I see I shan't need to send out a search party after the pair of you this time, hmm?"

Abi smiled and blushed, then shot a glance at Artemus, who took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Well. Fun as this has all been, it's time for Abi to go home."

"Yes, Doctor," said the girl meekly.

"What?" said the Doctor. "No arguments? No pleading, no crying? Well, I am impressed!" Extending a hand, the Doctor grasped Artie's warmly, saying, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Gordon. And I trust I was of some help to you and Mr West."

"I can truthfully say, Doctor," Artie returned, "that meeting you has been one of the most interesting experiences of my life."

"Oh, it always is!" the Doctor agreed happily. "And now, Mr West is waiting outside with the horses." The skinny fellow herded the girl and Mr Gordon out the door.

Jim passed over the chestnut's reins to Artie, then mounted up on Blackjack. "Good-bye, Doctor," he said.

"Good-bye, Mr West." The Doctor reached up and they shook hands in farewell.

"Miss Abi," said Jim. He touched the brim of his hat to the girl, his stunning blue eyes catching and holding her brown ones for a moment.

She smiled. "Good-bye, Jim," she said, meeting his gaze steadily.

Jim nodded, then turned to glance at Artie, who was just settling into Henry's saddle. "Ready to go, Artie?"

"Sure am, Jim." But then Artemus looked again at the girl and gave her a smile and a wink. "_Bon voyage, chère cousine_. May you have a safe journey home."

"And the same for you and Jim," Abi replied. "A safe journey home, wherever home may turn out to be, wherever the Wanderer takes you." And to Artie's amusement, she included in her farewell, as he had, a nice big wink.

"Off we go then," said the Doctor, taking Abi by the arm and steering her inside the TARDIS. The door shut firmly behind them. Moments later the familiar wheezing sound commenced, and moments after that, the blue box faded out, and in, and out again.

And it was gone.

Artie shook his head. "I'll never get used to a sight like that."

"No reason why you should," said Jim. "They're gone, and we'll never see them again." But as they turned their horses and headed out of the box canyon, both agents inevitably thought of Vautrain, wondering what had become of him and whether they had truly seen the last of him.

"I suppose," Artie ventured after a bit, "that this is going to be one of those cases we don't talk about, just like our first encounter with Vautrain."

"Oh yeah," said Jim. He paused. "So, Artie, what are you going to put into the report to the Colonel on the outcome of this case?"

"Oh! Shoving this off onto me, are you?"

Jim grinned. "You're the raconteur, Artie. You get to spin the tale."

Artie tilted his head to one side. "Well… we'll have to leave out the Doctor as well, which means no Abi either. And no land squid! So… That takes us back to the point when I was watching over the house while you were off scouting… All right," he nodded, "this is what we'll say. After you returned from scouting, the pair of us snuck up on the shack with Hansen inside, then I lobbed in a smoke bomb, flushing him out into the open. Quick fight, you subdued Hansen and hauled him off under arrest, leaving me to get the printing plates and destroy the counterfeit money. In fact, let's say that I was going to burn the phony money, but the little house being dry as kindling, I accidentally burned the place down entirely. Meanwhile, as I was dealing with the plates in the shack, Hansen - sorry about this, Jim! - Hansen broke free from you, tried to climb the high rocks to escape, then lost his grip and fell to his death."

"Uh-huh. And why would Hansen choose to do some rock climbing in order to get away from me?"

"I dunno, Jim!" said Artie impatiently. "Because he was a reckless fool! Look - you come up with a better story to explain Hansen's death, and that's what we'll go with. Just as long as we've got our stories straight, Ok?"

"No no, your version is fine, Artie." They rode on in silence for a while. Then, "Hey, Artie?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

With a sparkle in his eye, Jim said, "Race you to the train!" And before Artie could respond, Jim kicked his horse into a gallop and was off.

"What? Wait! Jim!" And belatedly Artie and his new mount sped after them, with Artie grumbling all the way about West having jumped the gun.


	13. Epilogue - Return to Now

**Epilogue ~~ Return to Now**

"I'll say it again, Abi," the Doctor remarked as he stood at the console, typing away at the monitor, "I am impressed at how graciously you left Mr Gordon behind at the end. I really thought I was going to have to drag you away kicking and screaming from wonderful Artemus."

Abi was flopped in one of the seats at the side of the dais, gazing idly at the rise and fall of the time rotor within the central column of the console as the vwarping sound of the TARDIS traversing the Time Vortex filled the air around them. With a crinkle of her nose, she said, "Oh, that would have been a lovely image for Artemus to carry away with him, his last view of his…" She glanced at the Doctor. "…of his fan girl."

"You were very mature," said the Doctor.

"Well… really it was something Jim said to me early on."

"Oh?"

"And when it all came down to it in the end, I realized that I could love Artemus Gordon with all my heart, but I could never actually have him."

The Doctor shot her a sidelong look. "Ah… Correct me if I'm mistaken, Abi - and I never am - but didn't you know that going in? You've read through your multi-great grandfather Elias's copy of Mr Gordon's memoirs how many times? And you know that shortly after the point when we just left _Messieurs _West and Gordon, a certain Miss Lily Fortune makes a dramatic reentrance into Mr Gordon's life. And this time, when he once again asks her to marry him, she does not turn him down."

Abi sighed. "I know. That's why I chose this adventure. It seemed like a little bit of nothing, and was one of the last chances to see him before he became a married man."

The Doctor was silent a moment, his eyes locked on the monitor and not on her at all. Finally, "Then why, Abi?"

"Why come see him? Why throw myself at him when I already knew what his future held for him?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe… maybe I'm just stupid. Or maybe I'm like Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz_, and I couldn't be told the truth until I'd figured it out for myself."

"Hmm. Well… and now that you have figured it out, young Dorothy, here are the ruby slippers, carrying you home." The Doctor gestured at the TARDIS surrounding them, eliciting a small laugh from his companion.

She sighed again. "All right, Mr Time-Traveler. Artemus, we know, winds up with Lily. Even Jim winds up with someone! But…" And now she lifted her eyes toward the Doctor. "…what about me? Do I wind up with someone?"

"Of course you do, Abi!" said the Doctor brightly. "That's what I'm working on right now."

She stared at him, puzzled. "What?"

He grinned and waved at the monitor before him. "Just been doing a bit of web-surfing here, looking at some kennels, to order for you…" He glanced up at her and waggled his eyebrows. "…a new pug-beagle mix."

She closed her eyes at that statement and slowly shook her head. "Doctor! Not that I want to be ungrateful. I loved Bandy and wouldn't mind a new puggly-boy. But," she sighed, "when I asked you if I was going to find someone, I certainly wasn't talking about a dog!"

The Doctor, his eyes again fixed on the monitor screen, muttered to himself sotto voce, "And neither was I." He looked a bit longer at the website through which he had just bought the dog, taking in the picture of the smiling face of the owner of the kennel, a young man with dark wavy hair, bright brown eyes, and a strikingly familiar face. The Doctor chuckled to himself softly, whispering, "And with a name like that, this young fellow can't help but be a fan boy, the perfect match for Abi the fan girl. Must be another cousin."

Then he blanked the screen, lest Abi catch a glimpse and his surprise for her be spoiled.

The note of the TARDIS changed now. "Ah, coming in for a landing," proclaimed the Doctor. There was a loud and final SHTUNK and the time rotor in the central column fell still. "Here we are. Home sweet home for Abi!" he said.

She hopped up and started for the door, but the Doctor stopped her with a hand held out. "Forgetting something?"

"What?" she said. Then it dawned on her. "Oh! The TARDIS key that you loaned me. You're right; I was forgetting." She stuck her hand in her pocket and fished for it, and her face went pale. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh? What do you mean by 'uh-oh,' Abi? What sort of 'uh-oh' was that? Don't tell me you've lost the key to my TARDIS!"

"No no, that's right here," she said, pulling it out and laying it in his palm. "It's just that... I thought I had my phone in that pocket too. But it's not there." She slapped at her other pockets, then looked around at the TARDIS floor. "I can't find it."

"Well," said the Doctor, "that's no problem. I can fix you up a new superphone, in case you should ever wish to call me."

"It's not that, Doctor. It's… My phone had the little video Artemus made of himself reciting Shakespeare. I really didn't want to lose that." Tears were springing up in her eyes.

"Oh, that's it, is it? I see now! Compared to Artemus Gordon, I'm chopped liver!"

"Oh don't be silly, Doctor. Compared to Artemus Gordon, everyone's chopped liver!" She paused, then added, "Oh well. It's not like I ever could have shown that video to anyone. But he made it especially for me…"

"Well, it's possible you dropped the phone here in the TARDIS. When you and wonderful Artemus went off to the wardrobe to return the costumes, for example."

"Oh, that's true!" she exclaimed and started for the interior doors to search.

"Ah-ah-ah!" he forestalled her, then made an impressive gesture toward the console where - pop! - up from a small round port sprang into view a brand new…

"Oh! You have a new sonic screwdriver!"

"I never leave the TARDIS without one." He plucked out the new device, checked the settings, then thumbed the switch and ran a scan. "Oh. Well, apparently your phone is nowhere to be found within the TARDIS. Sorry about that, Abi."

"Oh. Well," she said glumly, "don't worry about it."

He shook his head. "Oh, but it's modern technology left behind in the 1870's. That won't do! I'll have to go back for it. But," he added, "as we're already at your house, and your father will be coming home from work soon, we should go ahead and finish our tidying up, don't you think?" He slipped on his overcoat, then took from a pocket a familiar little object.

"Oh!" said Abi. "That's the last of the bombs that Artemus made, isn't it?"

"It is indeed. And you," he said, placing it in her palm, "get to toss it into the rubbish bin to rid us of the last vestiges of land squid. Ready?"

"Yes, Doctor!" she said, a grin returning to her face.

"_Allons-y_ then!" He flung open the door and led the way to the rubbish bin, then cautiously popped the lid up and had a look within. "Ew! That's entirely too much pink to take in at a single glance. Off you go, Abi. Toss it in." He opened the lid completely, then backed off in a hurry.

From a safe distance, Abi wound up and pitched. FWOOM! The rubbish bin full of jellyfish went up in flames. Over the crackle of the conflagration, the Doctor with a grin said, "Good thing it's a metal bin, eh?"

"Pity I didn't think to get out some sticks and marshmallows," she called back.

At length the fire died down, then out. Pulling out the new sonic screwdriver, the Doctor scanned the bin. "That's got the lot of them," he announced, then turned the device to sweep the whole area. "Good idea to check around, make sure we didn't miss any earlier when we… Hullo!"

"What?"

"Curious. There seems to be something over here, in the original crater."

"More land squid?" asked Abi, aghast.

"No, it's not an organic reading. But it's definitely something I've scanned for recently." He stopped and looked at her. "But… the only other thing I've scanned for with this sonic screwdriver is…" He broke off as he reached the crater and looked inside, then brushed at the dirt in the bottom. "Well! Have a look at this! It was buried just beneath the land squid."

He pulled out a small box made of some sturdy artificial material. Turning the box over in his hand, he looked for an opening, then set the box down, drew Abi a short distance away, and pointed the sonic screwdriver at it. With an explosive WHUMP the box cracked open, exposing that within it, it held…

"Now how did that get in there?" said the Doctor.

"My phone!" Abi squealed with delight. She darted forward and scooped it up, flipping the lid open and checking it over. "It's fine!" she proclaimed. "And strangely enough, it's fully charged." She began pressing the buttons and brought up the Artemus video, listening to it through rapturously. "Perfect!" she said when it ended. "I didn't lose it after all!"

"But…" said the Doctor. "But how is it here? How could your phone have wound up here and now, and under the land squid…? Abi!"

"What?"

"Give me the phone!"

"Why?" she said, even as she passed it to him.

He scanned it with the sonic screwdriver. "Well, it doesn't seem to have a bomb inside it."

"A… a bomb! Why would my phone have a bomb in it?"

"Because, my dear Abi, how else could it have gotten here? Or should I say, who else could have brought it here, having learned from the phone itself when and where you live? Someone with the ability to travel through time, and someone with the access to a land squid to plant one in the back orchard here?"

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was getting at. "Vautrain…"

"Precisely. And in case we didn't figure it out…" he said, and turned the phone for her to have a look.

A new video had been added. Vautrain's features filled the tiny screen, and as the Doctor started the video, the madman's voice spilled forth.

"My dear Mr Gordon. As you have no doubt deduced by now, it was indeed I who planted the Hydra in the back yard of your young cousin's home, compassing her death. Consider this the first shot across your bow, Mr Gordon. You and Mr West have by no means escaped me. I shall return. How well did the author Herman Melville put it:

_'…to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee.'_

"This has not ended, Mr Gordon. You and Mr West will do well to be ever looking over your shoulders, for you will know not from whence I shall strike.

"Ah, and one more thing, Mr Gordon. All my love to your dear wife!"

The video ended there in a freeze frame on Vautrain's handsomely urbane face with the twist of evil in the eyes. Abi shuddered and snapped the phone closed. "I don't understand," she said. "Why would he put a video on my phone and address it to Artemus? How would he expect Artemus to ever see it?"

"I don't know, Abi." The Doctor puzzled over it for some time, then said, "Ah… well… whatever you do, hang on to that phone. And if by some strange chance you ever meet up again with Mr Gordon - or for that matter, with Mr West - be sure you show them the video."

"All right," she agreed. "Wait - what about you? Why don't you take it back and show it to them?"

The Doctor frowned, looking off at nothing. Then bestirring himself, he said, "Somehow, Abi, I don't think that's going to be necessary. But I will tell you this: Vautrain thinks you are dead. Keep it that way."

"But, Doctor…!"

He was striding away now, his overcoat billowing around him, one hand uplifted in a jaunty wave. "_Ciao_, Abi!"

She was just about to race after the tall skinny fellow when a car pulled up in the driveway and Chas Gordon hopped out. "Hey, Abi!" he called. "How's my girl?"

Torn between the Doctor and her dad - Abi chose her dad. They were already inside the house by the time the vwarp of the TARDIS sounded in the yard, then faded away to nothing.


	14. Tag - Then

**Tag ~~ Then**

The Wanderer was chugging on through the night, carrying West and Gordon to their next assignment. Not finding Artie in the varnish car, Jim crossed over to the baggage car and looked inside.

Yes, there was Artie, sitting at the table with a chemical apparatus set up before him, all sorts of things bubbling merrily over the burners. Artie himself was leaning back in his chair, his sketch pad in hand, frowning at the paper as he tapped the end of his pencil against it.

"Burning the midnight oil, Artie?" said Jim.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Well, you know me: I can never have too many incendiaries or knock-out bombs on hand." Turning the sketch pad toward Jim, he added, "Hey, what do you think of this?"

"What is it?" said Jim, coming over and taking the pad from him. There were a number of technical drawings on the paper, all of them different views of a long tube with various appendages, its parts labeled with only partially comprehensible titles.

"Well, you see, Jim, I've been thinking about the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. I was thinking that if I only could make such a thing for us, how useful it would be, and so I… No?"

For Jim was shaking his head. "Artie. No offense, but that wild-haired fellow is a lot cleverer than you are, even though you're one of the most clever people I know. And besides that, he comes from some planet out there where the technology is, oh, centuries beyond what we have here. For you to make a sonic screwdriver from the sort of technology you have available to you would be like… like trying to build a locomotive like this one when all you have to work with is stone knives and bear skins." He passed the sketch pad back to his partner.

"Stone knives and bear skins," echoed Artie. He looked wistfully at his sketches, then turned his eyes toward Jim. "You really think…?"

"Sorry, Artie," said Jim. He glanced at the roiling chemicals, said, "Good night, buddy. Try not to blow anything up, ok?" and headed back to the varnish car to hit the sack.

"Try not to… oh ha ha ha," grumbled Artemus. He stared at the sketches again for a long time, then ripped the page from the pad, wadded it up and lobbed it at the wastebasket, and missed. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the pencil in the air. "This just isn't my night, is it?" he muttered as the pencil clattered to the floor. He dropped the sketch pad on the table and sat for a while, chin in hand, watching his chemicals bubble. Finally he hauled himself out of the chair, retrieved the pencil and set it by the pad, then found the wadded plans and deposited them firmly into the wastebasket.

He sat back down and brooded over his simmering flasks. Stone knives and bear skins… At least he hadn't also mentioned to Jim the other idea he had had: to construct a TARDIS. Just imagine that! Not having to rely on the railroad system and the limitations of where the tracks could take them. Being able to go wherever they were needed instantly. What's more, being able to go wherever they wanted to go. Anywhere! Europe? No problem. Australia? Sure!

Heh. Even the Moon, and beyond. Not to mention the ability to move through Time itself. "From one end of Time to the other," he murmured, smiling.

Hmm? What was that? "Jim? You called me?"

No answer. And anyway, that hadn't sounded like Jim. More like… whispering. Multiple voices whispering. A susurration in… in multiple languages as well. All the languages he knew, as well as…

Artie frowned. "What language is that? I don't speak that, and yet… how is it that I comprehend it?"

All right, where was this coming from? He hopped up and started making a search of the baggage car, coming quickly to the conclusion that, wherever he went, the whispering was equally as loud, which meant that…

"It's on me." Immediately he started emptying his pockets, stopping almost as quickly because the voices got louder as soon as he pulled out his pocket watch.

His pocket watch was whispering to him? He looked at it. It was an ordinary looking gold watch - he'd had it for years - with a short black ribbon fob attached and a small medallion dangling from the ribbon. He used the watch every day, and it had never talked to him before. He held it up to his ear.

Quite distinctly, a voice said to him, "Open me."

He nearly dropped it. Staring at the watch in consternation, Artemus Gordon placed his thumb on the catch and clicked it open.

**~~~ FIN ~~~**


End file.
